Love or Blood
by Diporae
Summary: 2k12 Raphril. Sequel to "Struggle." Relationships can be tricky at the best of times, but when you're a mutant turtle with feelings for the same girl as both your brother and best friend, tricky doesn't begin to cover it. Add in being refugees from your home due to alien invasions, and suddenly life becomes a lot more complicated.
1. Chapter 1: It's Never Simple

**A/N I do not own TMNT, but I am eternally grateful for this existence!**

**It's happening guys. I am writing a Raphril 2k12 ship arc… I know it's probably going to deviate from where the series heads, but I still want them to happen. So here's my AU where everything is the same except the obvious. Not going to lie I am kind of terrified about taking this on. It will be a huge challenge to do this ship justice so please please please let me know what you think! Hopefully I will not disappoint my fellow shippers!**

**Also technically this takes place after "Struggle," but the arc will continue in chapters here because I originally wrote "Struggle" intending for it to be a one-shot. I guess I could combine them… But I don't feel like it.**

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Love or Blood

Chapter 1: It's Never Simple

He hadn't planned to face her so soon. It had only been one sleepless night since that moment under the stars. All was right in his world the moment she draped her arm around his neck. Her warmth filled him with fear and worse, it filled him with hope. He knew there was no turning back, but Raphael was still not ready to give voice to something he had long believed to be unspeakable. Even now, the eve after his acceptance of its presence, he had to wait. Yet, here he was standing before her kneeling figure struggling to fight the very words he thought he could deny.

The previous evening's drive home had been uneventful. Michelangelo continually regaled them with highlights from the race, easily filling the silence that consumed the van's other occupants.

It was expected for Leonardo to not participate in the discussion. Since awakening their leader had withdrawn, seeking shelter within himself. Leonardo may have started to heal physically, but Raphael knew his older brother still bore grave wounds deep inside. Raphael had stood by Leonardo since their arrival at the farmhouse, and tried to guide his brother back to them. When his brother finally awoke from his coma, Raphael foolishly believed the hardest part behind them. Quickly, it became horribly apparent that calling Leonardo back to the waking world was only the beginning of a very long and difficult journey. Raphael tried to help his brother, but his efforts were met all too often with frustration and failure. As time went on, Raphael found himself praying for a solution that would bring his brother back to them. His prayers had yet to be answered.

Yes, Leonardo's introverted conduct had been predictable. However, Raphael and April's behaviour deviated from the norm, and was further emphasized by the absence of Casey and Donatello. The newly formed Best Friends for Life had not hesitated to leave the van in their bromance-mobile's dust, much to the chagrin of everyone except apathetic Leonardo. Michelangelo unsurprisingly wanted a ride in the victorious speedster. Raphael and April had less superficial feelings on the matter. Consequently, although the ride was uneventful, Raphael still found it painful to endure.

When they returned to the farmhouse, everyone in their exhaustion had headed to bed hoping to glean what they could from the remainder of the night. While his brothers quickly fell unconscious, Raphael had been left to stare sleeplessly at the wall. After several hours of endless repositioning, endless sighs, and endless sheep, the green-eyed turtle had finally given in to his insomnia at four. He had momentarily considered seeking respite from his whirling thoughts via television, but instead he went outside.

In the cool early morning air, thousands of stars still littered the sky. Their calming light guided Raphael across dewy green field to ancient red barn. He scaled creaking boards and dusty rafters to finish his ascent on moss-covered shingles. On that roof, under a lonely black zenith, Raphael begged for solace. He was exhausted, confused, and frustrated, but he could not sleep while his mind and heart raged. For when he closed his eyes, all he could see was Casey, Donatello, and her.

Raphael wished he could tell April how he felt. He wished he could simply confess his feelings to her and all would be well. He knew better. Life was not full of kittens, sunshine, and rainbows, and it had never been fond of Raphael. It did not matter if April shared his feelings, Raphael knew approaching her would be considered a betrayal to both Donatello and Casey. Raphael could handle Casey. His brother was another story.

He knew Donatello would be deeply hurt and therefore less than forgiving. Of all his brothers, Donatello was most likely to hold a grudge. You pushed him too far and that was it. Raphael suspected Donatello would not be outright aggressive, but the alternative was probably worse. His little brother would become subtly vindictive, exercising his aggression passively while maintaining a wounded puppy demeanor. Donatello's punishment alone would be agonizing, but Raphael knew he would torture himself alongside his younger brother's administrations. To hurt his brother that deeply would fuel an unprecedented amount of guilt. This addition of self-loathing would transform Raphael's life into the personal Tartarus he deserved.

Raphael felt he could not even ask if April felt the same way without betraying Donatello. Yet, the sai-wielding turtle could not go on this way. He already had begun to distance himself from the others, and he could feel his anger growing with every day he hid it. Raphael knew in time it would destroy him; before the invasion, he would have let it.

Before, Raphael had the freedom to have his rage burst out uncontrollably. Inevitably when it got him into trouble, Leonardo or Master Splinter would come to his rescue. They would pick up the pieces and Raphael could continue on with his irresponsible way. That was no longer an option. Splinter was dead and Leonardo wasn't much better. The leader they had come to rely so heavily on was gone, and they still needed someone to pick up the pieces. Someone to take responsibility for the team. Donatello was too lost in his inventions and dreams. Casey well was Casey, and Michelangelo made Casey look like Alexander the Great. Raphael considered April a possibility, but although she was a quick learner, she was still years behind in ninjutsu experience. The only one left was him.

After the Snake Weed incident, Raphael recognized that not only was Leonardo an infinitely better leader than him, but he did not want the responsibility. Raphael didn't want the burden of his brothers' lives, and frankly, he did not trust himself with it. The Raphael then still did not realize how petty his desires and fears were. After everything that happened, he had come to look beyond himself to realize the depth of what was at risk. Raphael had already lost his father and a brother. He refused to let that happen again. If that meant carrying the cross of leadership, then so be it.

He still prayed that their Leonardo would come back to them, but their once fearless leader was lost in a battle of his own. In order to come back, Leonardo had to overcome his demons, but he could not win if he did not have a reason to fight. That was something Leonardo had to discover on his own, and until that day arrived, Raphael would be there. He would lead them, which meant he could no longer afford to bury his feelings. Leonardo had been a master of controlling his emotions, but the second youngest did not have the same luxury. Instead, Raphael's neglected emotions usually festered into unpredictable ticking time bombs leaving chaos in their wake. If the red-clad turtle was to lead, he must eliminate or at least limit such liabilities.

When the stars finally began to fade in submission to the rising sun, he had a course of action. In order to keep his sanity, Raphael had to talk to Donatello. It would not be a pleasant conversation. If Raphael didn't word it just right his younger brother would be likely to explode, which in turn would probably cause his own detonation. However even if he angered Donatello, Raphael hoped his brother would see how much this entire situation had been tormenting him. He could only pray that if anything actually did happen with April in the future, Donatello would not feel as betrayed and disown him. Raphael did not want to have to confront his brother. He would have fought the Robo Roach a hundred times over than have a conversation that would inevitably hurt both of them, but no matter how painful it would be, it needed to happen.

It was not until the sun was fairly high in the sky that Raphael finally found the courage to seek out Donatello, but just as he jumped from his perch on the barn, he saw said turtle and Casey heading in his direction. Raphael took one look at his smiling brother and bolted.

He heard Donatello's confused, "Raph?" but did not stop. He sprinted through the woods until he skidded to a stop before nearly flattening a kneeling red-head. Of course he would run into the one person who had started all of this emotional hell. If it weren't for her Raphael would not even be in this mess! Yet when she turned those azure eyes on him, he knew he wouldn't want it any other way and therein lay his weakness.

He clenched his fists in frustration, "Damn It!"

The turtle knew he was off to a fantastic start. He hadn't slept, was panting heavily, and his first words to her were a curse. A mild curse, but it was a curse nonetheless. She blinked up at him, but before she could respond he spat out, "Sorry!"

Her hands were covered in dirt, the beds of her nails were black, and a dark streak on her cheek marked where her hand had brushed the skin. April had mentioned the previous afternoon about beginning to plant their garden. Although no one had voiced the thought, it was a possibility that the party would remain in North Hampton for another winter. Their limited funds were not enough to sustain them through the bitter season, and so no one argued against attempting to procure a harvest. If successful, they would be able to fill the root cellar and hopefully see another spring.

She still looked confused, "You ok Raph?"

He grunted, "I'm fine."

She frowned, "Well then since you're "fine," why don't you give me a hand?"

He grunted again, "Fine. With what?"

April pointed to her left, "See that bag of fertilizer? Spread enough of it over the rows to make an even layer. Only do the ones marked cabbage, spinach, and lettuce though because that's all I've planted so far."

Wordlessly he stomped over to the specified bag and did as she requested. Throughout his entire chore they worked in silence. Raphael could feel the unspoken words between them. He did not like how they crawled on his skin and pulled at his nerves. Yet, as he began to even out the freshly poured fertilizer over the rows, he felt his blood pressure decrease. About twenty minutes later he too had dirt under his nails, but was starting to feel more relaxed. The words were still there, but they were no longer as stifling. He was pleased to hear his voice lose some of its earlier menace, "I'm done. What else you need?"

"Here," she tossed him a little baggie of seeds, "You can plant the green beans in a row on the far side of this bed."

She indicated opposite side of the bed she was currently working in, "Make sure they're at least two inches apart."

He settled on his knees across from her and examined the packet, "I don't like beans."

Raphael saw her smile as he ripped open the packet, "Says the guy who lived off of worms and algae for how long?"

She passed him a small gardening spade and he began digging his first hole, "You know algae's not so bad. We still eat it sometimes."

"Ok I'll give you the algae, but you really think beans are worse than worms?"

A flash of pink caught his eye. In an instant he had it squirming between his fingers, "What? This little guy would go great with your morning coffee."

He loved the way her face crinkled in disgust, "Eww Raph, that's gross! Put it back!"

Raphael smirked, "I didn't eat breakfast you know."

April's eyes widened in horror, "What? You guys didn't even cook them?"

He rolled his eyes, "We were giant turtles living in a sewer April. Why would we cook them?"

"But… But Master Splinter wasn't –" she covered her mouth with a hand and he felt his grin fall, "I am so sorry Raphael. It just slipped out…"

He shrugged, "Don't worry about it," and tried to keep his face from tightening too much, "Sensi was Japanese. He ate plenty of stuff weirder than worms."

He could tell she was grateful he had forgiven her slip, "That's true I guess… But doesn't it wiggle?"

Raphael recovered some of his swagger, "Only if you don't chew first."

Her previous look of disgust was back, "You aren't seriously going to eat it are you?"

"Wow April, so I don't even get breakfast because it grosses you out?"

She whined, "Raphael…"

He brought it closer to his face, "Don says lots of people around the world eat them."

Raphael had actually been seriously considering eating it. His stomach had persistently been after his attention since he started pouring fertilizer. However, at the sound of Donatello's name a stab of guilt ran through his gut; the resulting nausea made him abandon the worm. April sighed in relief and probably assumed the sour look on his face was part of the joke, "Thank-you! How about we finish this bed and we grab something?"

He nodded and summoned as much bravado as he could, "If you make it."

"What?!"

"Hey a potential meal is still within grasp."

She huffed, "Fine. I'll make you a sandwich."

Raphael nodded in approval. He returned to digging holes and stuffing seeds into them. Still, his guilt plagued him. He knew he shouldn't be anywhere near April until he talked to Donatello. Yet the instant she put her eyes on him, his feet were glued to the spot. He frowned in frustration over these relentless thoughts. Could he not have one moment of peace? April's voice broke through his reverie, "It reminds me of you. You know?"

He looked up at her, "Huh? The worm?"

She gestured down, "Ug no! The earth."

He smirked, "I remind you of dirt?"

She sighed in exasperation, "Not in a bad way. I meant like the element."

Raphael shook his head, vexed by her choice of topic, "Newsflash April, fire's my element. Why do you think I have the red mask?"

She gave him a penetrating look, "You don't see it?"

He responded flatly, "No."

She shook her head and returned to her work. After a few seconds of staring at her in confusion, he heard her speak quietly with her eyes trained on her work, "I know you have fire, but there's earth too."

He mumbled, "She says to the temperamental jerk."

April sighed, "A jerk who always has our backs and has the endurance to last. You always come through for us Raph."

"It's called being stubborn April."

She gave a small knowing smile to the soil, "My point exactly."

Raphael wasn't convinced, "Riiiiight."

April continued, "Then what about Leo?"

He cocked his head in question, "What about him?"

"Your earth is what has helped him to heal."

He frowned, "I'm no healer April."

She shook her head, "You're wrong. Leo wouldn't have come this far without you."

Raphael clenched his fists. She was wrong. Didn't she see the husk that had replaced his older brother? If Raphael had been as good as she claimed, then the Leonardo he knew and loved would be here with them now. He snapped, "Because the magical healing power of my sponge baths have really made a difference."

Her hands stilled in the soil, "You and I both know you've done so much more than that."

He didn't want to argue with her any further. This conversation was rapidly deteriorating, and he had enough on his mind already. Raphael did not need another painful reminder of Leonardo's current condition weighing on his already exhausted brain. He wanted her to get to the point, "Ok fine. Say you're right, and I'm like the earth or whatever. What's this about?"

He was alarmed when he saw dark spots appear on the ground before her. He ignored the seeds he had just planted and was kneeling before her in an instant, his anger forgotten. April was clearly distraught because even with him so close, she still stared at the ground, refusing to meet his eyes. Raphael berated himself for being so impatient and cynical to her, but before he could apologize she whispered, "So much has happened. Our families are broken. We're refugees. The Kraang and Shredder threaten the world as we know it. What's happened to us is more than anyone should bear."

She finally looked up and her sapphires met his emeralds, "So why is it that when I'm with you I feel grounded? That I feel as if the wound in my soul is no longer bleeding?"

Raphael's heart jolted out of his chest. He had not expected this. Only April could throw him such a disabling curveball. If there was ever a moment to tell her how he felt now would be it, but all Raphael could do was stutter, "April… I…"

He wanted to bolt. To run again, but this time he wouldn't. He slowly lifted a dirt-covered hand and placed it on her cheek. Her eyes closed and a blush of a smile appeared. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, but he could not have her yet. "April… I can't…"

Raphael thought his heart would die at the look of horror on her face. She recoiled away from him, but he couldn't let her leave. He placed his hands firmly on her shoulders, "April, wait..."

She did not return his gaze. Instead he saw her eyes bore holes into the ground at his feet, "I got to talk to Don."

April's eyes slowly dragged themselves up to him, "Is that it?"

He loosened his grip, "You know how he feels."

April's fiery eyes turned up to his, "So what are you going to say to him? Hey can I join you and Casey in your battle for April? Am I just a prize to you too Raphael?

He bristled, "I would never treat you like that!"

April continued to emit sparks, "Yet you still insist on talking to Donatello before you will talk to me? Do my feelings even matter?"

Raphael snapped, "Geezus April of course they do! But I owe it to Don…"

April cut him off, "You don't owe him anything Raphael! If two people like each other they should be allowed to like each other! Or is that what this is? A convoluted way of you saying you don't feel that way?"

He couldn't restrain his growl, "April don't you see? I've been torturing myself for months all because I fell for the same girl as my brother!"

He slammed his mouth shut and jerked his arms away at his words. Despite all his efforts, on the day he finally decided to confront his younger brother Raphael had slipped. Just like that he had made his heart bare. In those few words he both confessed his feelings for April and betrayed his brother. His vulnerable heart cowered in his chest, but then she reached for his hand, "You really mean that?"

Those four words somehow gave his helpless heart courage. With his free hand, Raphael reached out and cupped her face again, "April, I've never been more sure."

Still he had to ask it, "But are you?"

She fell forward, hugging him viciously, "Raphael, there's no one I'd rather be with than you."

April rested her forehead on his plastron under his chin. As soon as her arms had wrapped around his shell he had embraced her own small figure. For a few minutes they just sat in each other's arms in the middle of the flower bed. The earthy scent of spring and sunshine, his leathery musk, and her aroma of vanilla and strawberries blanketed them in bliss. If not for the dirt and sweat from their labour, he would have thought he was dreaming, but these subtle imperfections made it perfect reality. Raphael knew he would burn this moment into his memory. He never wanted to forget his brief, if fleeting, taste of paradise.

The red-haired angel in his arms eventually pulled away slightly and tilted her head up in question, "But why didn't you just say something? Why torture yourself for so long?"

Raphael sighed and released her, "April he's my brother! We all know he's crazy about you and I'm sure you can guess how he would react if I just jumped in and stole you away."

She shook her head, "But Raphael I was never his. I was never anyone's. No one ever bothered to ask me who I liked. Casey and Don both assumed that if they liked me then automatically I'd return their feelings, but if I did, don't you think I would have chosen by now?"

He looked at her seriously, "I doubt they've thought of it that way, but I still want to talk to Don before this goes any further."

She frowned, "But what happens if he says no? Do Donnie's bidding because he's a sore loser? Or ditch me and your feelings altogether?"

Raphael folded his arms, "The only chance I have of Don not feeling betrayed is to get everything out in the open," at her look of despair he continued, "but whatever happens my feelings won't change."

Her face had softened but her eyes still were concerned, "Are you sure you don't want me to talk to him?"

He shook his head, "You should probably talk to him later, but I need to be first."

She scooted away from him as he stood, "Just remember it's just as much my choice to be with you as it is yours."

Raphael walked away, "Heh. Try telling him that."

Raphael did not look back as he headed in the direction of the barn. His conversation with Donatello could no longer wait. It needed to happen now. Raphael was terrified and wanted to bolt again. This time he wouldn't. He just hoped that after this he would still have a brother who loved him as much as Raphael loved him.

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**A/N So there it is. Raphril 2k12 is happening. I'm still kind of flabbergasted that I'm attempting such a challenge! I spent a lot of time trying to make it believable, in character, romantic yet not too cheesy, and consequently rewrote it so many times... The dialogue was especially challenging since I wanted to convey a lot of different aspects of their relationship at once. Please let me know what you think, and where I can improve! Just no flames please. **

**Hopefully I did the 2k12 Raphril ship justice and my sequels do not disappoint!**


	2. Chapter 2: Reflections

**A/N I do not own TMNT, but am forever grateful for their existence!**

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Love or Blood

Chapter 2: Reflections

As April watched him leave feeling her chest constricting at his absence, she swore she would never forget their moment in the vegetable bed. Every touch, smell, and sight had to be catalogued and securely sealed into her memory.

April rarely horded her memories in such a manner. Her mind was fickle. Over the brief span of her life she had millions of moments etched into her subconscious. Flashes of events all collected in a vast cobweb of neurons. So many brief and insignificant. Many without context. Fluid and lucid. All were drops in an ever-expanding universe. Every once and a while those sparks would connect. Flames of recollection, married by origin and consequence, could evolve into something more. Some lasted but a few minutes. Some were ancient by comparison. Some vague. Some brimmed with detail. Such was her memory of the afternoon of Tuesday, October 23rd.

April could recall with startling precision the moment Jeremey Henison asked to use the restroom. She knew a fly buzzed by the clock at 2:46 the instant Jeremey raised his left hand, pinkie finger dangling lazily, to catch Mrs. Thompson's attention. It was an obsessively detail-ridden recollection that included every visible stimulus right from the appearance and positioning of every member of her class to the fraying posters hanging haphazardly on the cream classroom walls. It was diamond of a memory that had absolutely no practical application in her life whatsoever. A five-year-old series of neurons, which would never yield her any advantage or even disadvantage to its collection. It was a waste of grey matter, but still April remembered.

Too bad she couldn't recall if she ate breakfast on most mornings.

April O'Neil was not blessed with an eidetic memory. She had long ago accepted the capricious nature of her mind - begrudgingly resigned that she was no savant – for it was a beast that could not be tamed. Of course she had tried, but her mind was like water. Sometimes she could cusp just enough for a taste, but usually the majority would easily slip through her fingers. Yet sometimes – as in once every ten years – her memory cooperated.

The red-head could not pinpoint the exact moment when her feelings for Donatello and Casey began to shift. Her affections for Casey had fled as fast as they came. Yes, he did appeal to her physically, but there was something strange yet attractive about his character. She was undeniably drawn to the hockey fanatic and found herself seeking his company. Over time, Casey Jones became the both the confidante and friend April desperately needed. He helped share the burden of their friends' existence, and for that April was eternally grateful. However, it quickly became apparent that April could never see herself in a committed relationship with the vigilante; at least not until he matured, which was not about to happen anytime soon. April's repertoire with Donatello was less simple.

It had been nauseatingly obvious from the beginning how strongly Donatello felt for April. For a long time, his lack of tact had strongly deterred her from reciprocating his affections. Gradually he became accustomed to her feminine presence and as his advances finally developed some relative subtlety, she began to see the turtle in a new light.

April had never been the object of anyone's attraction before she met Donatello. High school's curriculum alone took a toll on her self-esteem. With the addition of her peers automatically avoiding her due to her very contagious oddball miasma – or some other equally ridiculous notion – April's confidence had been greatly compromised. April O'Neil was not one to outwardly cow to her teenage oppressors, but sometimes in the dead of night she would briefly envision herself as one of the "chosen ones." It was a fleeting dream consisting of her basking in the admiration of her peers much like The Plastics of "Mean Girls" (a film she would blatantly deny watching even though the worn DVD under her mattress proved otherwise). In that world she was not plagued by Irma's dry commentary, she wasn't "voluntold" to tutor, and she did not have a care in the world. It was one of the few dark desires that April normally hid deep within her heart. These fantasies were not only embarrassing, but were not destined for her. So when such imaginings threatened her, April would assertively replace them with better thoughts. However, even if they breathed for only those few tiny moments they still existed, and it was that starved part of her that readily greeted Donatello's advances.

April had tried to muster enough courage to simply inform the purple-clad turtle she had no interest in him romantically. Yet, for the thousand times she rehearsed said scenario in her mind, April had not once managed to perform. After her shameful cowardice had thoroughly asserted its dominance, the red-head resigned herself to the need of a new tactical approach. She decided to further explore her relationship with Donatello and hoped that as they grew closer she would come to return his feelings. This particular delusion had good intentions.

Too bad these are what pave the road to hell.

Consequently after months of feeling nothing but lukewarm nonchalance towards the turtle, hell was exactly where April found herself. Without any premeditation, she had managed to ignite a fire in both the hearts of Donatello and Casey Jones. April had become the Archie to their Betty and Veronica – a sick love triangle in which no one wins – and she was all too aware it was the personal Tartarus she deserved.

Her feelings for the warring lovers only further diminished when they degraded her from human to object status. April found herself full of shame and guilt. Her reluctance to halt the boys' advances, whether from her dark doppelganger or concern over wounding their pride, had only enabled them. Then the entire stereotypical situation rocketed from unbelievingly dramatic – April silently swore a certain DVD would be snapped at first opportunity – to horribly melodramatic when April realized she had fallen for not only Casey's best friend but Donatello's brother. Irony was a bitch.

If she had been the normal girl she once dreamed of being in the dark of the night, she would have dealt with her love-related chaos weeks ago, and moved onto the next teen drama. Mercifully, April O'Neil led no ordinary life and could appreciate the weakest of silver linings. Alien invasions and vengeance-driven lunatics did tend to rearrange one's priorities and so unknowingly, both the Kraang and The Shredder had given April a gift: the gift of procrastination. Yet even with such forces supporting her avoidance of this particular emotional turmoil, April could not hide forever. Once the party arrived at the farm house her ever-growing feelings for Raphael saw to that.

So there she was in the vegetable patch – of all places – glimpsing Lovers' Oblivion. After weeks of unsaid words and silent games, of silent tears and subtle smiles, of painful need and toxic lust, April finally knew what it felt like to be held in his arms. Her mind stilled. Her heart filled. For an instant she knew harmony. If she had a choice, April would have stayed in his embrace for eternity, but life was cruel and did not stop for them. There were conversations to be had and blood to be shed.

Raphael was more courageous than her. He had not hesitated to face his brother. April could only admire how he never bowed to his fear, but she supposed a lifetime battling demons would harden any heart. Even though she knew its cost to his soul, April could not help envying him. She would never be as brave as Raphael. He and the others would probably deny such a statement, but the turtles had always placed April on a pedestal in which she did not belong. Their expectations were the ivory tower she could never ascend. Yet, when she paused to sift through her memories, April knew she was not entirely correct.

One turtle had viewed her differently and here she was, mere minutes after his departure, desperately searching for that moment when she knew it to be true. She had ruminated regularly trying to find the precise instant when the tide of her affections had turned. After last night's solace under the stars April began to obsess. Her tumultuous mind stilled the moment Raphael placed his hand on her cheek. He had denied it, but April knew he was the earth that grounded her water. She too had fire, but her mind was a river. Always moving. Always changing. Only earth could contain her. Now he was absent once more and she was left in an ocean of memories. She expected she would return to a cascade of chaotic confusion, but the current brought her a raft, crafted by his hand.

It was only a few months ago, belonging to a time when their world was still whole. April had been at the Lair determined to write the essay to end all essays (at least for this semester). The fall term's English credit was earned through a course focused predominately on poetry analysis. Only one week into the class and she was worried. After her midterm, April was doomed unless her saviour came in the form of an exemplary term paper. She knew if she had any hope of getting anything higher than a D in the class, she needed to slay that paper. The Monday she got her midterm mark she began tackling her essay with unrivaled ferocity, by Saturday night she began eyeing her paper with pathetic pitifulness, or she would have if she had a paper to stare down at in resentment. Instead she glared at Microsoft Word and in all its bright white glory.

April thought the assignment was simple enough. Her teacher had assigned them a poem and they were to appropriately analyze it while implementing a second poem of their choice for comparison. When she saw her poem was only one stanza April thought she had hit the poetry jackpot.

Oh how wrong she was.

Overall, April was a decent student. Her history and science grades were above average, her mathematics grades allowed her to tutor, and thanks to Master Splinter's training physical education had become a light workout. However when it came to English and especially poetry, April was hopeless. No matter how hard she tried, she was lucky if she could see the poet's efforts as more than a mismatch of random words. Unless it was a rhyming couplet, April was lost. So it was unsurprising that as she read her poem for the hundredth time that day her thoughts held images consisting of pyromania and paper:

_"Ozymandias_

I met a traveler from an antique land  
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone  
Stand in the desert… Near them, on the sand,  
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,  
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,  
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read  
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,  
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed:  
And on the pedestal these words appear:  
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:  
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"  
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay  
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare  
The lone and level sands stretch far away."

When she finished the poem April found herself face-planting into the worn pages of her textbook and releasing a moan filled with her suffering. The One and Only Raphael had been the first to interrupt her pathetic moping, "Pretty sure that's not what they mean by hitting the books."

She could not see his face from her papery prison, but she was aware of the smirk in his voice. April did not respond immediately. Of course April had done her homework at the Lair on countless occasions, and although she had the odd impossible problem, the red-head overall had little academic difficulty. Consequently, other than the rare piece of advice she never truly needed her friends' help. If she responded to Raphael now, it would be very clear that was no longer the case.

Since she had first met the turtles, April knew they saw her as something special. To them they had practically viewed her as divine. Over time they naturally came to realize she did have plenty of mortal flaws, but she knew they still considered her to be super smart. This was not true and was glaringly evident by the big red X's all over her midterm, but April did not want them to know that. Part of her felt that by displaying her poetic incompetence they would no longer view her the same way. Pride warred with sorrow while she felt the red-clad turtle shift somewhat closer to her when she didn't respond. Tender concern met her ears, "Seriously April, you ok?"

Finally she looked up from the pages eyes blinking rapidly, equally because of her the return to light and her attempts to hide her teary eyes. A quick glance around told her for the moment it was just her and Raphael. When she met his green eyes their sincerity made her crack. Her frustration ran off her tongue with uncharacteristic velocity, "No! I have to figure this poem out to write my paper so I can compare it to yet another poem that talks about the same stuff! And after reading this thing over and over all I know is there's some stupid statue of some stupid guy named Ozymandias in some stupid desert!"

She then threw the book at him and preceded to lay face first into the couch, praying to the couch gods to put her out of her poetry-induced misery. The turtle sitting beside her once again broke through her moans, "You're reading _Ozymandias_?"

April sighed and lifted her head in exasperation, "YES!"

But he didn't speak. Instead she saw his eyes scanning over her book. A moment later he looked up and she wailed, "See it's hopeless! I probably inherited the Kraang's inability to understand the English language!" she produced an intelligible cry before declaring her greatest fear, "Oh God! This is it! I'm going to fail English!"

Before Raphael could respond, a familiar orange-clad turtle bounced into the room, "Who's failing English?"

April glared at Michelangelo, "Great! Now even Mikey knows I'm hopeless!"

A third turtle entered the room, "Who's hopeless?"

Michelangelo jumped on Donatello's question, "April is. She says she's going to fail English!"

This time April only responded by audibly throwing her face back into the couch. Donatello's voice drew her out, "Come on April it's not that bad."

She sniffed, "Says the guy who doesn't have to do the assignment!"

All three brothers saw the paper April pointed to. After they read over the prompt, Raphael grunted, "Pointless."

Donatello gave his brother a particularly condescending look, "Of course you would think so Raph, but this is important! How else is April going to get a good education?"

Raphael started to reply, "That's not-"

Donatello just ignored him, "Here just give me the book. I can help her."

Raphael practically threw the book at his brother, "Fine Mr. High and Mighty you leave your mark. Let's see if it lasts."

He stormed off completing his departure with the slamming of his bedroom door. April sat up in concern, "Should we go after him?"

Michelangelo knowingly shook his head, "Naw. He just gets pissed when he's not good at something."

Donatello nodded in agreement and gave April a knowing smile, "He'll be fine by dinner. Don't worry I can help you April! Let's see so this is by Percy Shelley a poet from the 1800's. Ok so we just need to find you a poem from the same time period and then you can talk about…"

Much to her dismay, April then found herself in the company of Donatello reading up on Europe's political scene at the beginning of the 17th century. When the pizza arrived two hours later heralding the arrival of movie night, April was more than relieved at her source of temporary respite. Yet, the warm dough turned sour in her stomach when Raphael did not grace them with his presence. Once again the remaining turtles waved off their brother's behaviour. Movie night continued uninterrupted – if minus one turtle.

Around nine April said her farewells. She knew it was earlier than normal, but she figured she could work on her paper for a few hours before she went to bed. It wasn't until she began to pass through the Lair's station turnstiles that Raphael reappeared. April was all too familiar with the scowl on his face, and apparently so were his brothers based on the wide berth they gave him. "Ok well I'll text you guys when I'm home."

Leonardo nodded, "Thanks April."

She turned around, but froze to a gravelly voice, "Hey."

April turned to meet angry green eyes. She returned his glare with a questioning eyebrow raise, "Here, your book."

He shoved her poetry textbook in her direction, "Huh?"

He rolled his eyes and strode off, "Might be useful."

April had no idea why he was being so cold and she realized she was more tired than she thought. She could have sworn she had shoved her book into her bag before dinner so she would not have its offending cover mock her throughout the movie. The cool city air chased the thought away, and by the time April was home she was back to her poetry-induced hysteria.

Donatello had not been helpful. She knew he been trying. He had her best intentions at heart, but somehow she suspected her teacher would not approve of his political analysis as the thesis for an essay that was supposed to be centered on poems. After brewing a hot cup of tea, crawling into an over-sized sweat shirt, and wiggling into black sweat pants, April pulled her text book out for round eight hundred and nine. She froze when she saw one of her pages dog-eared.

Although she did find it strange Donatello had not marked it with one of the many purple stickies – which he had readily used for at least a billion notable pages – April assumed the turtle had marked it for her to revisit. When she opened the book she strongly suspected otherwise. She had never read this poem before:

_"When I Heard The Learn'd Astronomer_

_When I heard the learn'd astronomer,  
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me,  
When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and mea-  
sure them.  
When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much  
applause in the lecture-room,  
How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,  
Till rising and gliding out I wander'd off by myself,  
In the mystical moist night air, and from time to time,  
Look'd up in perfect silence at the stars."_

Even April with her pitiful poetry skills knew that her reading Walt Whitman's poem was not Donatello's doing. The tiny cramped scrawl at the corner of the page proved her suspicions, "Did it leave a mark?"

For a moment April was dumbfounded. Then as her fingers glided over the ink her memories of the evening rushed by in a dazzling stream. Her mind burning at images both imagined and real. There was Raphael scanning _not_ reading _Ozymandias_. There was Raphael dropping hints aimed at Donatello and _her_. There was Raphael sneaking April's textbook out of her bag _unnoticed_.

Then she knew.

Raphael had known exactly what the poem was talking about and amazingly he knew of others like it. He had said so little, but given her so much in such a way as to not hurt her pride. Yet Raphael had not missed the opportunity to throw a few good punches at Donatello and his brother had no idea. April was thrilled to get an A on that paper, but her heart sung at the grin Raphael gave her when she brandished her trophy before him. The smile he gave her after reading it made her world freeze completely, and she never wanted it to melt.

April's memories were indeed fickle things. They ebbed and flowed with the whirling of time, but every so often they would yield a clear drop of perfect truth. April could not remember the moment she first fell for Raphael. There was no pronounced mark that had been forged onto her heart, but she did not mind because she knew it took more than a mere impression for something to be remembered. Raphael had won her fluid heart, not by forcing it, but by merely calming it in his earthy embrace.

* * *

**A/N I don't know if this is necessary, but just so no one yells at me for plagiarizing. Behold a bibliography:**

Whitman, Walt. "When I Heard The Learn'd Astronomer." Complete Poetry and Selected Prose by Walt Whitman. Miller. Ed. James E. Miller, Jr. Cambridge: The Riverside Press. 1959. 196. Print.

Shelley, P. B. "Ozymandias." The Norton Anthology of Poetry, 5th edition. Eds. Margaret Ferguson, Mary Jo Salter, and Jon Stallworthy. New York: W. W. Norton &amp; Company, Inc. 2005. 870. Print.

**And to my lovely reviewers:  
****Guest: Thank-you so much! I am glad you think so =)  
****Mimi: I totally agree! That is partly why I was inspired to start this because I felt it's a story that needs to be told.  
****Terri: Thank-you for both of your reviews! I'm glad to know that my hard work on the descriptions and characterizations are hitting home, and hopefully I can continue to do so =) I also totally agree; they had so many sweet moments! Ahh if only…**

**Thank-you for reading and as always all feedback is appreciated!**


	3. Chapter 3: Armoured Confessions

**A/N Sadly, I still do not own the turtles, but I am still eternally grateful for their existence!**

**Thanks for reading!**

* * *

Love or Blood

Chapter 3: Armoured Confessions

It was no secret that Michelangelo was sensitive. It was also no secret to the youngest turtle that his brothers were just as susceptible to their emotions. They would insist otherwise, but there was no fooling Michelangelo. A lifetime observing the crafting of his brothers' armour, whether forged of cool detachment, anger, or logic, had inevitably revealed every flaw to each meticulously-wrought design; allowing him to easily expose the naked vulnerability his brothers had vainly sought to protect and disguise.

The smallest turtle long ago wondered why they wasted so much energy on their craft when no matter what tactics or resources they used, Michelangelo could still see the chinks. That was before he realized that they did not know that he knew.

Back then he found it downright hilarious that his three older and supposedly "wiser" siblings were unaware of something so blatantly obvious, but over time the humour of the situation ebbed. It disappeared altogether when he realized his brothers' greatest fear lay not in what could damage their fragile cores but what resided in the cores themselves. Now Michelangelo only felt pain every time his brothers donned their armour because he knew of their deep fear of what lay beneath.

His brothers were scared of their own hearts.

Naturally Michelangelo decided to do what he could to lure their souls into the open so that his brothers could face themselves and see the folly of their concern. Michelangelo was a being of light and was inexplicably drawn to all things bright, and assumed that his brothers were the same. He believed that he could use his own light to draw out their hearts. He did occasionally meet some success. A brief uninhibited glimpse at his brothers' souls was the most beautiful thing in the world to him. He thought it was only a matter of time before their armor was stripped forever, but as he grew older the orange-clad turtle learned his light alone was not enough. In that lesson he learned how powerful fear truly is.

But he would not give in.

Instead Michelangelo continued to be that lone candle, a tiny flame in a forest of darkness, but he became more careful. He feared if his brothers knew the depth of their youngest brother's knowledge of their innermost feelings they would find the cracks that had been Michelangelo's entrance to their souls. If Michelangelo had one fear greater than any other, it was the fear of one of his brothers completely sealing their armour to never again release their heart. The result was the turtles tended towards deeming their youngest as a hopeless goofball, but said turtle did not mind. It was more than a fair trade, for he became an expert on his brothers' hearts. So, when they tried to resume their lives as best as they could after fleeing the city, Michelangelo was profoundly aware of the others' throbbing pain and he knew the party's dynamics were shifting.

He figured the most obvious change could be found in Donatello and Casey's relationship. Frankly, Michelangelo silently admitted if even Leonardo had noticed the dramatic release of tension between the two once bitter love rivals it was indeed a big change. Naturally, the orange-clad turtle was relieved the two were no longer feuding constantly over April. He strongly suspected that April probably didn't appreciate all their petty arguing especially when said arguments extended to her objectification – yes, Donatello wasn't the only one who read. However, Michelangelo also found himself slightly neglected when "Casatello" would go off on their own to cook up another crazy scheme in the barn. He tried to join in but usually found himself shooed away shortly after he entered their Bro Cave.

Now Michelangelo was not one to be bummed out over one of his brothers or friends snubbing him. When such snubbing happened on a regular basis one learned to adapt, but his past strategies typically involved finding another companion. The other two changes to their party's hierarchy smoothly derailed this particular well-used tactic.

The next most evident change – as in only Donatello and Casey were unaware of it – was between Raphael and Leonardo. Michelangelo was both surprised and immensely proud of how Raphael had coped – he did recognize a certain red-head probably was owed some credit – since their arrival at the farmhouse. He could not deny Raphael's handling of Leonardo had yielded his second oldest brother newfound maturity.

Their eldest brother had been in very bad shape when they fled the city. There had been a time when even the ever-optimistic Michelangelo began to wonder if their Leonardo would ever awaken. Miraculously he had, but Michelangelo was astutely aware of the horrific blow that had passed through his eldest brother's shield straight to his heart. Every time their blue eyes locked, Michelangelo would feel a cold shiver run through his spine at the horrific fissure he saw within their depths.

It was bad.

Hell, he knew it was infinitely worse than "bad," but a better description for that cruel lesion would not change the fact that Michelangelo had no idea how he could fix it. He didn't even know where to start. The only thing he did know was that it would take a long time to heal.

If it ever did.

Michelangelo knew that wounds to the soul were much like an injury to any tangible part of the body. Sometimes, even after all the right steps were taken something still went wrong. The site could become infected leading to the poison's dispersal. If the infection itself did not kill, too often the body would destroy or cripple itself in an attempt to purge the substance. The spirit was no different. By awakening, their Leader had overcome the poison, but it was yet to be seen if his soul could survive the collateral damage. Leonardo's heart could all too easily be consumed with a toxin conceived by his own hand.

And there was no longer anything more Michelangelo could do to help his brother.

That was what made this next battle truly the most difficult. The others had presumptuously assumed Leonardo was out of the woods when he awoke. Michelangelo knew different. In order for Leonardo to recover, he had to make the decision to fight, and therein lay his greatest battle. Fighting was easy once you knew what you were fighting for and why you were fighting for it. Convincing yourself it was worthwhile was the hard part – for Leonardo it would be a war for his very soul. It was a deadly battle where the stakes were at their highest, and his brother had to fight it alone. Michelangelo could not reclaim his brother's soul when it was Leonardo himself who held his own soul captive.

Raphael understood.

Michelangelo knew this brother too had faced such battles in the past. Although Michelangelo suspected the others sensed some kind of inner turmoil within the second oldest, he doubted they realized the full gravity of Raphael's dark struggle and the implications involved. Master Splinter was the only other aware of the situation and it had been he who had first enlightened Michelangelo on such matters. Undoubtedly, their Sensi had assisted Raphael where he could. Lately his red-clad brother seemed to be managing well, but the smallest turtle knew the war had yet to be won. Still, Michelangelo believed that Raphael's own experiences had given him the wisdom to comprehend Leonardo's situation, and he knew better than anyone that this was something Leonardo ultimately had to confront alone.

Still, that did not mean Leonardo's brothers would abandon him. They would help and support him where they could and Michelangelo knew Raphael was viewing the situation very seriously. For it was Raphael who had subtly began to ease the impossible burden of leadership that Leonardo had once gallantly carried.

Michelangelo couldn't be more proud of Raphael.

The smallest turtle knew Raphael greatly feared the responsibilities that came with leadership. He also knew that a fair amount of selflessness and discomfort was involved for a leader to be successful. Michelangelo strongly suspected that Raphael had been doing a lot of self-searching and growing since they arrived at the farm. The youngest brother had been worried that this sibling would be most at risk to losing himself after witnessing the events that forced them to flee the city. He had seen Raphael's heart begin to crack when their Father was taken away from them. Michelangelo had initially been petrified this wound would follow a similar path as Leonardo's, but Raphael had refused to bow down to his pain. Instead his big brother had dug deep within himself and when Michelangelo met those green eyes he knew Raphael had begun to put things into a new perspective.

Michelangelo did recognize – although it would shock the shit out of his brothers – he potentially could have stepped into the role of leader instead of Raphael. However, besides having to confess that he wasn't the nutcase everyone thought he was, Michelangelo knew that although he did have some of the makings of a leader, his brothers still needed their light. He worried that the cross of leadership could compromise the duty he had long ago sworn to perform – well that and he had to admit he didn't greatly desire the complete abandonment of his carefree lifestyle. Nonetheless, Michelangelo did not doubt that if no one else could step up to lead their team, he would be more than capable.

Yes, Michelangelo was immensely proud of Raphael and he empathized with Leonardo's struggles, but all his elder brothers' soul-searching prevented them from being the same available companions they once were.

Even before they left the city the two eldest could be about as much fun a wet blanket when caught in a "mood." Although Raphael currently was downright chirpy in comparison – as in his explosions didn't carry the same magnitude of volcanic terror – Leonardo had become downright miserable. Michelangelo valiantly tried to be there for Leonardo, for he did understand his eldest brother's plight, but even he had his limits. So now – after a daily fill of Leonardo – Michelangelo was short three companions, which left him with Raphael and April.

Ah yes. Them.

And therein lay the party's greatest, and as of yet unnoticed – oh that was going to be a fun talk – change. Oh yes Michelangelo knew – he wouldn't be surprised if he had known before they themselves knew, and the others thought he was the slow one – about their burgeoning feelings. They had been in North Hampton a couple of months, but Michelangelo had sensed the shifting affections several months before they arrived.

It wasn't that Michelangelo wasn't happy to see the two's affections slowly develop into something more – although he was getting tired of having only Ice Cream Kitty being the only one excited to see him (he was nervous of the chickens ever since Dr. Cluckingsworth got a copy of _Animal Farm_), which was becoming a problem now that it was getting warm and apparently leaving the freezer open for extended periods of time leads to a crazy high power bill that ends with a certain turtle getting smacked upside the head by every member of the household – he cared deeply for both April and Raphael and could see plenty of reasons why they were a good match. No, he wasn't against their love, but he was not looking forward to the shit storm that would ensue when Casey and Donatello got wind of what was happening right under their noses.

Truthfully, Michelangelo thought it was karma for them treating April like Barbie – always having the toy companies telling her who she should be with without any regards to how she might feel – but he still did not want anyone to get hurt. Unfortunately if Raphael and April continued at the rate they were going, it was only a matter of time until shit hit the fan.

So last night when April put her arm around Raphael under that starry sky, Michelangelo braced for impact. He just didn't expect it to happen The. Very. Next. Day.

The moment Raphael had left their bedroom at four, Michelangelo felt the air shift. He had managed to fall back asleep, but only for a few hours. By time six rolled around, the youngest turtle began to feel the pressure build in his skull. He knew it hadn't happened yet, and that there was still time for the storm to blow past them. So he tried to continue his day as normally as he could. That didn't stop him from feeling a little perturbed at Casey, Donatello, and Leonardo's lack of awareness of the coming tempest. It only took one sideways glance at April's face and the noted absence of one sai-wielding reptile for Michelangelo to know the probability of things blowing over was rapidly diminishing. It put Michelangelo on edge, and as soon as the group parted ways – Casatello to the barn, April to the garden, and Leonardo to Broodville – he decided to hide.

When Michelangelo had been a small turtle – no more than three or four – he had wondered off into the sewers alone. Although his stubby legs protested, his mischievous nature lured him onwards until somehow – with mystical means only mini mutants can manage – he found himself on a rooftop facing towards the harbour. He remembered how fascinated he was at the gradual, yet abrupt transition of sky scraper to multi-story building to warehouse to ship to sea to sky. Yet, what truly captivated his attention was the great black clouds building on the horizon.

He remembered the initial stillness of the air and was awed that there was no wind despite the amassing nimbi. There was an almost audible buzzing to the air. It left a metallic taste in his mouth and if he had hair it would have stood on end. Just when Michelangelo believed the air itself would shock him, a great mass of wind came out of the silence, and it brought him to his tiny turtle knees. He would have withdrawn into his shell if not for his fear of being swept off the roof. Despite the wind, the electricity was still there. Michelangelo could practically feel ribbons of it glancing off his scales. That had been fearful enough, but what had struck terror in his heart was when the day turned to night. The sun was helpless against the black abyss and when Michelangelo felt moisture on his cheeks he wasn't sure if it was from the rain or tears. Yet before it began to truly pour, the entire city was awash with white light from a giant jagged bolt of lightning. Moments later Michelangelo's cries were blocked out by an almighty crack of thunder and the sound of heaven's gates opening to release the deluge. If the tiny turtle had Donatello's way with words, he would have thought it was Ragnarok, Armageddon, and Judgement Day all rolled into one. Thankfully Master Splinter had found his missing son before that hypothesis was confirmed, but Michelangelo never forgot that bitter flavour.

He tasted it now.

The orange-clad turtle had fled to the nearby woods and used his shuko spikes to ascent into the vast canopy. Not all the trees were fully in leaf, but the majority of the earth-bound giants had more than an adequate amount to hide a predominantly green individual. Michelangelo found himself swinging and jumping through the trees trying to find shelter before the storm unleashed its wrath, but no matter where he went he could not escape the metallic taste. When he paused for a moment to catch his breath to hear voices below he felt his heart stop.

Michelangelo could not move. All he could do was curl himself in the sturdy embrace of the tree and silently curse karma's betrayal. He probably was long overdue for a good kick in the shell – one did not embrace the pranking lifestyle he did to escape unscathed – but of all the million different directions his brothers could have gone they of course mimicked his. And of course of the all the infinite vegetative locations at their disposal, they had to stand directly below the particular branches that supported a certain turtle. Karma was a bitch.

"Seriously Raph, how far do we need to go from civilization to have a conversation? We've been walking over fifteen minutes!"

Donatello already sounded peeved. Michelangelo found himself regretting his decision to not join Leonardo in Broodville when he had the chance. Raphael replied tersely, "You have been slacking if you find fifteen minutes exhausting."

Michelangelo silently shook his head, "_Oh they're off to a great start._"

Donatello retorted, "I'm not tired! It's just the longer we're out here the more time Casey has alone with April!"

The camouflaged turtle closed his eyes in dread_, "Oh boy…"_

Raphael had already been as tense as a harp string. Now he was on the verge of snapping, "That's why we need to talk!"

Michelangelo could practically hear the gears whirling in the Donatello's brain. The concern in this brother's voice broke his heart, "What's wrong with April? Did Casey tell you something?"

Raphael's voice cracked, "Do you… Uh… Do you still have feelings for her?"

The air was fraught with sparks. Michelangelo found himself worrying the forest would spontaneously combust. Donatello's voice held an incredulous note, "What? You dragged me out here to ask that? You know the answer Raphael! Of course I have feelings for her! God I would do anything for her!"

Raphael shifted from foot to foot, clenching and unclenching his fists. Finally Donatello seemed to catch on to how troubled his elder brother was for he continued in genuine worry now directed at Raphael, "What's going on Raph? Are you ok?"

Raphael didn't immediately respond. Instead his brother's innocent concern appeared to further fuel his agitation. The red-clad turtle now was pacing the forest floor, resolutely looking anywhere but at Donatello. Finally he mumbled, "I… I don't know how…"

Donatello's own anxiety prompted him to finished Raphael's sentence. Michelangelo knew it was a bad idea, "How to do what Raphael?"

Raphael froze and hissed at the ground, "Don't make this more difficult!"

And now Donatello was on edge, "I'm not trying to make it difficult! You're the one who is making it difficult by drawing this on forever!"

Michelangelo did not doubt that when Raphael lifted his head it was to hurl a ferocious glare at their brother, "Fuck Don! Do you think I want to hurt you?"

Donatello folded his arms, "Hurt me? The only thing hurting me right now is your apparent incapacity to enlighten me with the source of your distress!"

The hidden turtle held his breath, "_Oh Dee, not the big words…_"

Remarkably, despite the Donatello's increased verbosity, Raphael seemed to deflate a little, "That's not it Don. You're gonna hate me."

Donatello stepped forward to put a hand on his brother's arm. Raphael's flinch caused his brother to reassess his word choice, "Raph come on I could never hate you. You know that. You can tell me anything."

Raphael was back to boring holes into the ground, "You say that now…"

Donatello sighed in exasperation, "Raphael I swear to you I will never hate you. Just tell me what's going on."

Raphael said nothing forcing Donatello to break the silence, "Please Raph."

Raphael finally lifted his head to meet his brother's gaze straight on, and Michelangelo could only admire his troubled brother's courage. Raphael's voice was quiet but firm. It was as if he was confessing as much to Donatello as he was himself, "I like April."

When the words left his brother's mouth, Michelangelo could see the lightning streak through the air around them. Donatello's voice would be the thunder that revealed the true nature of the storm. The second youngest turtle stood stock still for a moment before he whispered, "What?"

Raphael did not hesitate this time unleashing another jet of electricity, "I like April Don."

Yet still the thunder did not come. The calm in Donatello's voice bellied the situation's tension, "I know you like her Raph. Everyone likes her."

It was then Michelangelo realized he had been wrong. Raphael's words had not been anything more than the ribbons of static electricity in the air. Donatello's denial was that instant of uncanny calm. Those few moments of surreal stillness before that great gust of wind threatened to annihilate the world as they knew it. The storm would truly be upon them when Donatello's long fuse finally reached his heart. Raphael appeared to subconsciously sense the impending doom and subtly moved into a fighting stance, "No Don. I don't like her like everyone else. I like her like you and Casey do."

Donatello raised an eye ridge in derision, "Is that so? Then how come I'm only hearing about it now? I've liked her since the moment I first saw her, but you… Well you've just mocked me! Besides I thought it was you who said there was no hope for us mutated giant turtles?"

The wind began to subtly pick up with Raphael's response, "I know what I said Don, but I wasn't really speaking to you."

Donatello laughed humourlessly, "Oh? Then pre-tell, who were you conversing with? Your imaginary friends?"

Raphael grunted, "No."

Donatello rolled his eyes, "Riiiiight. So who were you talking to?"

Raphael quietly murmured, "Me."

The purple-clad turtle just looked dumbfounded, "Huh?"

The older brother sighed, "I was trying to convince myself that I could never have a shot with April. It made it easier."

In effort to regain some of his composure Donatello blurted out, "And what makes you think you have a shot with her?"

Raphael impulsively bristled, "What? You don't think I'm good enough?"

Michelangelo closed his eyes in silent frustration, "_Oh Raph that's not what he meant…_"

So the hidden turtle was unsurprised by Donatello's response at being cornered, "Well I mean how can you when Casey and I haven't?"

Raphael's eyes narrowed, "What you think I can't bring something new to the table?"

Donatello shrugged, "Come on Raph everyone knows you and Casey are practically the same person."

The muscular turtle growled, "You've only known that meathead a few months and you already think you know him as well as me?"

Donatello fidgeted obviously trying to find a way to calm his volatile brother, "You're putting words in my mouth Raphael! I'm just preparing you. The probability of April returning your "so-called" feelings are slim."

Raphael appeared to deflate again and Donatello looked relieved. Michelangelo remained tense, "_Oh Donnie… It's so obvious…_"

The red-clad turtle sighed, "I don't want to hurt you."

Donatello did not deny irritation slipping into his voice, "Not this again. Raph we're going around in circles. Ok so you like April. It's not that surprising since she is one of two human females we know, and I know you know that any romantic involvement with Karai is just insane –"

Michelangelo rolled his eyes, "_Too bad Leo can't accept that_ –"

His brother continued, "So you can stop with the whole "I don't want to hurt you" thing. It just makes you sound guilty…"

There it was, the day had turned to night and the storm was almost upon them. Donatello's eyes began to lighten in understanding, "_Took you long enough... You would think with a brain that big he would have figured it out sooner._"

Raphael did not respond. Instead he met Donatello with a knowing stare. Michelangelo saw The End Times in those green eyes. The purple-clad turtle gave a choked whisper at his dawning comprehension, "No way… You didn't…" but when Raphael refused to respond his brother's words steadily began forming a crescendo of desperation, "You… You cannot be serious! This… This can't be happening… How can… HOW COULD YOU RAPHAEL!?"

Mother Nature had arrived.

The brothers had begun slowly circling and the second-oldest turtle groaned, "Don it didn't happen like that…"

Donatello was visibly trying futilely to salvage some of his composure, but his voice cracked betraying his emotions, "It's fine. I get it."

Raphael was not convinced, "You're not mad?"

Both Michelangelo and Raphael flinched at the very loud and very false laugh their brother produced, "Mad? Why would I be mad? My brother and the girl of my dreams just happened to hook up. It's not like I loved her or anything!"

The green-eyed turtle tried to interject, "Donnie – "

Donatello snapped at the interruption, "Look I said it was fine. So it's fine. Just drop it ok!"

"You don't really sound fine…"

An edge of hysteria now laced the purple-clad turtle's speech, "RAPHAEL, I SAID IT WAS FINE!"

Raphael stopped moving and just gave his brother a pained expression, "Um well ok then. I guess I'll see you later…"

Michelangelo decided the grin Donatello forced onto his face would become a source of future nightmares, "Yes you will!"

With that Raphael gave his brother one more penetrating look and then turned on his heel to leave the clearing. For several minutes the remaining turtle below stood rooted to the spot filling the clearing with his laboured breathing. Michelangelo was greatly concerned for his brother below and nimbly jumped out of his shelter. Before him stood a tear-filled Donatello.

His brother's face abruptly shifted from sorrow to shock to fury and it was then that the young turtle realized his mistake, "What the hell are you doing Michelangelo?"

The small turtle tentatively tried to calm the being before him, "I uh couldn't help overhearing your conversation and I just wanted to see if you were ok."

Donatello's eyes held nothing but ice, "Well if you overheard you should know everything is fine!"

Michelangelo did not waver, "You really don't seem like it bro."

Donatello bristled, "Well maybe it's because I feel like my privacy is constantly being violated by your incessant need to stick your beak where it doesn't belong!"

Now Michelangelo started to waver, "Don I would never – "

But Donatello cut him off, "FUCK MICHELANGELO! Not everything is a game!"

Michelangelo did not recognize the malevolent beast before him, but still wanted to be there for his sibling. "Seriously Bro you need to calm down."

He was met with a growl, "You're asking me to be serious? You're the one who hides behind pranks and jokes and general stupidity every waking hour! When are you going to grow up and realize that the world is not full of sunshine and butterflies!?"

His eyes were now burning with approaching tears, "Donnie that's not true…"

Donatello just rolled his eyes, "I am surrounded by delusional idiots." He turned away, "Just leave me alone!"

Michelangelo had been wrong. He watched his brother's departing shell in utter despair. The storm he feared had only just begun, and now he was all too aware that there was no Master Splinter to save him from the deluge.

His tongue burned of metal.

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**A/N**

**Once again thanks for reading and reviewing. I would especially love to hear about what you thought of the interaction between Don and Raph! **

**And to my lovely reviewers:**

**Guest: Thank-you so much! I am glad you think so =)  
****Mimi: I totally agree! That is partly why I was inspired to start this because I felt it's a story that needs to be told.  
****Terri: Thank-you for both of your reviews! I'm glad to know that my hard work on the descriptions and characterizations are hitting home, and hopefully I can continue to do so =) I also totally agree; they had so many sweet moments! Ahh if only…**

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**And just a few of my thoughts in case you care (and I don't know where else to put 'em).**

**Hey guys! Ok so hopefully no one was too upset to see this chapter written in Mike's POV. Don't worry I plan on sticking predominantly to Raph or April (I plan on the next chapter being solely focused on Raphril awesomeness), but I felt we needed some neutral territory to see things go down. Also I wanted to emphasize that a lot of shit is going down in the group's world right now and Raph and April's developing relationship will be affected by it. Finally, I've always been a fan of the idea that Mike is actually super with it and possesses a great deal of empathy, which allows him to easily read between the lines. He just likes to have fun and wants his family to not get carried away with their own drama so much that they forget what it means to live. **

**Also I really hope the dialogue and the flow of the argument/conflict was natural. I totally had to rewrite that more than a few times so that neither came across out of character. I'd like to think Raph although still hot-headed, between trying to pick up Leo's slack and fear of hurting his brother he would really try to reign in his anger here. He still is impulsive (thus his tendency to jump to conclusions) and doesn't have the best self-esteem (his assumption that Don doesn't think he's good enough for April because secretly he doesn't think he's good enough).**

**Then there was the other turtle: Donatello. I probably find him to be one of the more difficult turtles to write for a number of reasons. The biggest being that I feel like his character gets butchered most easily and I am really not that thrilled with the 2k12 Don. So my Don will probably end up leaning bit more towards the other generations. So first of all can I just say that I personally feel that Don can be just as much of a black sheep as Raph. I know sounds crazy but hear me out. **

**The guy is supposed to be a total genius and even though the others aren't dumb by any means, Don is still kind of on a plane of his own. So it would be unsurprising that he not only has a harder time connecting with others, but he also would find himself a bit isolated. That said, I don't think he'd be a pretentious prick that he's often made out to be. Yes, he's proud of his intelligence, but because of his family's heavy emphasis on the physical I doubt he would ever truly believe that one is better than the others. So while he may excel academically, he would still have his ego kept in check by his ninjutsu. Also, just the fact that he has three siblings would knock him down a few notches. Whenever one starts to go on an ego trip the others would most likely intervene (that's how it worked with mine anyway).**

**Don also is super sensitive, but unlike Raph who uses anger to protect his heart, Don uses logic and black and white thinking. So when his emotions do manage to leak through he doesn't know how to deal with them immediately. He also values his calm and collected demeanor so I think it was natural for him to snap at Mike at the end. Not only did his little brother witness him crying, but he had all these different emotions wreaking havoc so as a result he lashed out at Mike when actually wasn't that mad at him.**

**In regards to egos, I really doubt any of the turtles would have it in excess. Living your life knowing the rest of society considers you an abomination would probably wrack a bit of havoc in the confidence department. Personally, I think of all the turtles, the one with the most self-esteem would probably be Mike. His accepting nature alone helps him deal, but being the baby of the family he always felt pretty loved.**

**Whew sorry for the rant, but I just wanted to get my thoughts out there!**


	4. Chapter 4: Turtles and Shaving

**A/N ****So as promised here is my Raphril focused chapter! Gurg… I love these two so much! **

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Love or Blood

Chapter 4: Turtles and Shaving

It had not been a good day. His eyes were itchy from the many hours forced from their lidded asylum. His stomach had long since abandoned its protest against its lack of nourishment, and instead had left his brain and body woefully sluggish. His self-imposed punishments did not provide him peace.

Although he had finally confessed to Donatello, their exchange had been unfulfilling. Wretched words. Strings of syllables that left him undone. Sentences that had once again done nothing to convey the truth of his thoughts.

Somehow the verbal language had always failed him: it always managed to barricade his desired messages through grammatical nuances and garbled phrases. It was impossible for Raphael to untangle the cobweb of emotions into something lucid within the confines of a normally paced conversation. There were too many threads, colours, and feelings all simultaneously competing for his attention. Maybe that was why he read poetry. Only they could flawlessly convey so much with so little. Raphael envied their talent – it was one he would never have.

With their unspoken words, the brothers had gone their separate ways. Fruitlessly seeking respite that neither could find with so much unsaid. Raphael had itched to break through his brother's denial to lay bare all the hurt and frustration between them. He was surprised that for once his anger had not claimed his soul. Maybe it was because he felt it was Donatello's turn to be angry. Too bad Donatello believed himself above such savagery.

The sun had well begun its path to the western horizon, and Raphael still had not returned to the farm house. He knew he needed to face Casey, but his battle – or lack thereof – with Donatello had left him more than drained. Raphael felt as though along with his confession he had ripped out a part of his soul only to have his sacrifice painfully reduced and thereby dismissed as insignificant. He did not relish a similar encounter with his human friend. Instead, the exhausted reptile found himself on the rocky lake shore a few miles from the party's warm shelter.

The setting sun yielded the makings of a cool night to follow. Hopefully the chill would be enough to numb his heart. He could still feel the tingle of fire in his nerves at the thought of his brother. It was a testament to the magnitude of his guilt that Raphael had allowed Donatello to fight in the realm of the intangible by not engaging in the battle he so desperately craved. Physically, Donatello did not stand a chance against his elder brother. Raphael felt he needed to leave his brother with something for fear of losing everything. Whether this was a fear borne for his brother or himself, Raphael could not say.

Despite the coolness Raphael sat near the water allowing the gentle waves to lick his toes as they waxed and waned. The water still held the last of winter's touch and his digits were quickly numb. He didn't care. At least this one piece of him had been freed of pain.

Graceful ducks swam not far off amongst the first cattails and reeds of spring. It would not be long until the feathery creatures had many small tufts of yellow frantically scurrying behind them. Raphael realized he had never actually seen a duckling. The sewers were not exactly an ideal nursery for such delicate beings.

The turtle found himself wistfully watching the birds wondering how different his life might have been if he had been born in a lake such as this. Perhaps not raised in such a fashion as the Mallards before him, but still surrounded by his terrapin brethren. Undoubtedly he would be a lot smaller and slower, but he would not find himself a mutated freak. He would automatically be given a place in the world by both turtles and humans. No one would look at him twice to judge him as anything more than an ordinary shelled reptile. He would never know of the Shredder or know of the pain of losing Master Splinter.

He would know nothing of April.

As if in answer of his dark ruminations: she appeared. He knew it was her without turning to watch her progress. The usual scent of vanilla and strawberries wafted through the crisp spring air and watery lake aroma, but it was also accompanied by olive oil, onions, and garlic. Raphael was sure if he were to smell them – which he would never dare – her fingers would be steeped in the garlic she undoubtedly minced while expressing her culinary skills.

She stood in silence for a moment just within his left peripheral field of view. Without glancing away from the water she brushed a loose strand of hair back and spoke, "Dinner's ready."

It wasn't a request or an order. April was merely stating a fact. Raphael also did not avert his gaze, "So?"

He emphasized the question in his voice. This was not the first time he had skipped a meal. So why was she now seeking him out? April calmly responded, "Well after the food was starting to get cold Leo sent me off to go looking for everyone."

"Just you? Why didn't Mike go?"

She shrugged, "I haven't seen him since this morning. You're the first one I've found so far."

So she had only come because Leonardo had sent her. He responded coldly, "You're wasting your time. I'm not hungry."

Raphael did not bother to look at her. It would only make the sting worse, but his eyes betrayed him when suddenly April sunk down beside him. She positioned herself so that they weren't quite touching, yet close enough for him to feel the heat rising off her. She began to untie her sneakers, "Yeah me either. My appetite disappeared the instant I talked to Casey."

Her eyes said it all. April had told Casey the truth, and saved Raphael another exhausting conversation. He still needed to confront Casey, but at least he would already know what was coming. Raphael loathed that moment of comprehension. The shock, the hurt, the betrayal, and more were enough to make him want to curl up in his shell. He broke away to stare back at the lake. He grunted, "You didn't have to."

April grabbed his hand forcing him to look at her, "Yes I did Raphael."

The scales on his face burned red hot as her touch dug through his shell and her eyes penetrated into his heart. He looked down shyly and as expected he had no words. April apparently did not care because she gently squeezed his hand before returning to pulling off her shoes. "How's the water?"

Raphael snapped his head back up at her abrupt change of topic to be met by her knowing smile, "Uh… Cold I guess?"

She lifted an eyebrow expectantly and he rambled on, "But it's nice…"

Nodding, April tugged off her white socks and began rolling up her jeans, "Ok don't judge me. I haven't shaved for a bit."

She dipped her toes in and shivered. Raphael just gaped at her, "Huh?"

April leaned back on her hands as her muscles relaxed, "I know it's been a week, but I've been busy."

Raphael shook his head, "April what are you talking about?"

He was met by her rolling her eyes, "My legs. What else?"

"You grow hair there?"

She laughed, "Well I can't afford laser hair removal."

He was still confused, "So you shave?"

Now she was looking at him in disbelief, "Come on you can't tell me you've never seen leg hair before! You've been around Casey in shorts."

He decided to ignore the mention of that certain individual, "I just assumed men had hair and girls didn't."

"And where did you get that idea?"

He folded his arms. He didn't like looking like an idiot, "TV."

She evidently saw his anxiety and smiled gently, "Aw Raph you know those girls are all supermodels and photo shopped to so called "perfection" right? Besides what about the ads for razors on TV? Venus ring a bell?"

Raphael did know those ads, but he didn't want to tell April that until this moment he couldn't tell what they were actually selling. He tended to get distracted by the half-nakedness, but Raphael would stab himself with his sai before he ever admitted such a thing to April. So instead he snapped, "Well it's not like I can get close enough to real girls and figure it out for myself."

April flushed in embarrassment and looked down at her pale ankles. Raphael inwardly cursed. He didn't mean to make a big deal out of it. He flinched slightly when suddenly a leg was thrown in his lap, "Here."

If April was blushing, Raphael was smoking. His eyes flicked briefly to April then back to damp right leg laying across his thighs. Never mind the left toes pressing against his very happy – no he would not succumb to such thoughts now – left thigh. So he did what the eloquent and charming Raphael always did, "The Hell?"

April responded coolly, "You said you had never seen one up close so here you go."

Raphael did not want to tear his eyes away from the limb, "What am I supposed to do with it?"

April shrugged, "I don't know. Hold it until you no longer have a false misrepresentation of the female body as portrayed by popular culture?"

He snorted, but she smiled encouragingly allowing Raphael to return his gaze to the wondrous anomaly before him. Her jeans had been roughly rolled up to the top of her calf exposing the better part of its curve. As he got a better look he saw tiny freckles dotting her white skin erratically.

Then there was her foot. Raphael had never realized how small and _angular_ it was – compared to his round appendages anyway. He found himself fascinated with her five tiny toes, each smaller than the last. Flaking smears of green nail polish lingered on the nails. He oh-so-carefully turned the foot slightly to see the arch of her sole transitioning into the heel via an expansive network of lines. She responded to his unanswered question, "They're like finger prints. Each person has a different and unique pattern."

He nodded mutely before returning to the root of his current situation. Emerging from her skin like miniature seedlings, were prickly little stubs of hair. Once again April answered his silent query by gently grasping his hand. While she moved it she softly spoke, "It's ok to touch."

She released his hand just above her leg. As Raphael braced himself to feel her beauty, he was astutely aware of the contrast between his dark emerald scales and her alabaster complexion. Green to white. Earth to snow.

Finally he released his muscles to gravity's bidding and placed his palm on her skin. He was aware of the tiny prickles that met his touch, but he was far more entranced by the warmth and overall smoothness of her calf. It was nothing like his scaly hide. Raphael subconsciously held his breath as he gently stroked her flesh: the front hardened by the tibia's strength, the back softened by the muscles' support, a subtle trail of goose bumps left in his finger's wake.

Raphael felt a familiar warmth in his tail, but ignored it. His eyes ran up her body from the tips of her toes right to the roots of her hair before returning to settle on those sparkling blue eyes. April's cheeks were now slightly flushed while a smile pushed them upwards in joy. Her irises held a glossy sheen that Raphael had never seen. Their eyes were locked and he felt his heart pound against his ribs. Even with his toes still licked by the water, he had become hot.

He barely registered April unwinding her other leg beside its partner. He was too busy registering the left hand that had reached out to grab the left side of the top of his plastron. Raphael found himself easing her journey by wrapping his own left arm around her waist. As he moved her onto his lap her knees bent so that her calves were sheltered under the arch of his knees. April was now on his thighs and had twisted her torso so that her both hands gently grasped his plastron. Meanwhile, he continued to support her with his arms. Her face was angled slightly below his, but they were now only inches apart. He could now smell nothing but her and her warmth engulfed him. They continued to lock eyes for a moment until April's eyelids began to lower as she moved towards him.

Raphael thought his heart would explode from his chest.

She was now less than an inch away and Raphael found himself instantly cold. His body exploded with heat as he met her lips.

Raphael closed his eyes and found himself pulling her tight against him. It took a moment for him to determine how his wide mouth could appropriately accommodate hers, but she was patient and she was willing.

When they finally broke apart he adjusted her legs so that they were now on top of his knees. Not for a moment had his eyes left hers. He was lost in their azure depths. He was oblivious to the world. Suddenly his anxiety overcame him and he drew her in tightly against his plated chest. Her silky hair tickled his face and her strong scent helped alleviate his fears.

He had spent countless nights and days dreaming for this moment, and until a few days ago it was his eternal nightmare. For he had long convinced himself that it would never be. That they would never be. Even now with all his senses boldly proclaiming otherwise he secretly wondered if he had fallen asleep – only a dream so deep could bring this kind of happiness. April seemed to perceive his tension and raised her hand to delicately caress his cheek. She murmured into his neck, "You ok?"

Only April's voice could penetrate through his crippling doubts. Raphael eased his embrace and looked down into those dual cerulean pools. There he saw her concern and her love and he almost broke at the sight. He had spent a lifetime believing that no one would ever look at him that way.

All conscious thought abandoned, he placed his right hand behind her head while continuing to cradle her body with his left. The initial awkwardness that came with all first kisses – when doubt and butterflies threaten to ruin all lovers' embraces – was no longer present in their second union. They were not fearless, but Eros ensured their bliss. April stroked his cheek and lightly weaved trails of warmth as nails skated over the delicate skin where scales met shell. He rewarded her by massaging the small of her back and dismissing his reservations. His mouth widened and together they began to explore; taste and feel alone guided them to ecstasy.

Eventually they resurfaced to the brilliant red horizon of the sun's final adieu. Raphael adjusted his grasp so that April could curl up on his lap with her side to his chest. They had not abandoned all intimacy. Gentle strokes and caresses continued as they gazed over the fiery water. April murmured softly, "So what's the verdict?"

All he could do was produce an inarticulate sound of contentment, "Hmmmm?"

She pulled away slightly to deadpan, "What was your opinion of your first up close encounter with a female leg?"

Raphael's eyes glowed with mischief, "Hard to say. I need a second look before I give my opinion."

April raised an eyebrow, "Oh really? Do you need to take notes too?"

He smirked, "That depends on how often I get to come to class."

She snorted, "Wow. With all those lessons on pick-up lines I'm surprised you have the time."

He squeezed her gently, "It worked didn't it?"

April looked at him in confusion, "How so?"

Suddenly Raphael unceremoniously jumped to his feet with her in his arms, "I'm holding you now aren't I?"

The red-head in his grasp whacked him on the chest, "Oh. My. God. Did the One and Only Raphael just pull the corniest pun of all time? Wait until I tell Mikey!"

Raphael shrugged nonchalantly and stepped into the shallow water. The warm bundle in his arms helped negate the jagged shocks of ice running up his calves. "You could tell Mikey, but I'm thinking after being in cold lake water that will be the least of your worries."

April O'Neil went rigid in his arms and gave a look that would have made the Shredder wet himself, "Raphael. Don't. You. Dare."

The turtle chuckled darkly, "We have an understanding then?"

The girl snorted, "That's one word for it."

Raphael met her eyes and raised an eyebrow, "Do we?"

April rolled her eyes, "Fine. Mikey won't hear a word about it."

"Promise?"

"Yes."

He turned and lowered her to dry ground, but the instant her feet touched the rocky sand April spun on heel and ruthlessly swept the reptile's feet out from under him. Raphael hit the cold water shell first and by the time he had rolled onto his feet the red-head was laughing manically while sprinting away sneakers and socks in hand. Raphael shouted in false fury, "You're dead O'Neil!"

April only continued to laugh at her drenched green pursuer. Raphael could not stop a grin from sliding onto his face as he began to devise his revenge. She couldn't outrun him forever.

The small turtles hidden in the reeds watched this strange creature dash off into the darkness. Once it disappeared they returned to complacently munching their leaves.

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**A/N Thank-you so much to all the favs, followers and reviews! I am super pumped that you guys are enjoying this =D Please keep them coming!**

**Terri: You are definitely probably my fic's biggest fan right now! I am so appreciative of your comments. They make my day when I get them! Also, I'm planning on having some other character POV's in the future so be excited!**

**Guest: Thank-you! Hopefully I can speed up the pace a bit, but we shall see since it's difficult with company over to get some down time to write. I wish I didn't need complete silence to do my thing – it would make writing waaay easier lol.**


	5. Chapter 5: Fireflies

**A/N *Sigh* I still do not own TMNT, but who knows maybe Santa will come through this year?**

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Love or Blood

Chapter 5: Fireflies

April raced away from her green pursuer, her escape dimly lit by the twilight sky. She was unable to retain her laughter at his curses, but still managed to race him. The cool grass hugged her feet and tickled her toes. The occasional sticky debris clung to her soles and dyed her skin dark. The turtle behind her had sped up and April was losing ground quickly.

When he caught her – yes it was only a matter of time – April O'Neil was dead.

She knew she now faced her last moments on Earth. It was typical that she followed the procedure of reviewing every detail of her life before she met her maker. April was a sucker for stereotypes, but she knew it was more than her desire to fulfill all of media's mandatory clichés that led her down one particular lane of memory.

_100 Metres_

When she first laid eyes on him she thought he was a freak. He had that swagger about him that frankly made her want to punch him in the face. Although this was somewhat more of a "violent" approach than she usually took, April figured she would be justified. She was down to her last nerve and ready to spit fire onto this arrogant Neanderthal. Then he spoke and she saw red.

Hazardous hockey pucks were one thing; tutoring Casey Jones was another.

April hadn't even been asked by their teacher if she was willing to tutor the renegade athlete. So in her festering rage, she confronted said Trigonometry teacher. The teenage girl still wasn't sure how in the span of five minutes she had somehow lost her fury and been convinced that tutoring would benefit her just as much as Mr. Jones. Nonetheless, the moment she left the classroom, April knew she had been voluntold and there was no way out. It was now just her and Casey Jones.

_90 Metres_

Considering their rocky start, April was more than surprised to find herself feeling strangely towards the boy at the end of their first study session. Yes, she did have to get creative in order to divert his attention from the turtles – who at that time she considered the equivalent of Satan's minions – but there was no denying the feeling of warmth that slithered its way through her body whenever he was close. When Casey touched her she thought for sure she would combust on the spot.

She could not put her finger on the origin of this bewildering phenomenon. His dark hair was nice, but April had never been picky when it came to one's do. His physique, although toned, was nothing exceptional – especially when compared to the turtles' heightened musculature. It was a mystery. Yet, the more April sought the reason for her body's enigmatic fireflies, the more attractive he became.

First she thought maybe he was reminding her of a certain clever turtle. Casey did share Donatello's brown eyes and desperate need for an orthodontist, but April was quickly attuned to Casey's own unique traits. Maybe it was the gentle splattering of freckles across his cheek bones? Maybe it was his fearlessness? Maybe it was that same proud demeanor: once infuriating, now hopelessly alluring. However, none of that really mattered because April O'Neil knew without a doubt that several months ago, she had quickly fallen hard for Casey Jones.

For about a week.

Then came the beginnings of April's personalized melodrama. The more she lost interest in Casey, the more his affections grew. It wasn't that the vigilante was a bad guy. He was brave, loyal, and kind, but he was also immature and proud. April did appreciate confidence. However, there was a difference between having an attractive amount of self-esteem and being a pompous jerk face. Casey fell into the jerk face category.

_80 Metres_

After coming to the realization that April was not willing to accept Casey's "quirks," she knew all she wanted was to be friends. Sadly, the Friend Zone was not a place the jerk face willingly occupied. April supposed it might have been helpful if he could read her mind. Alas he could not, and consequently he had no idea that April no longer bore any intimate feelings for him. April swore that if she learned nothing else from this experience, she had to learn to communicate her feelings – or rather not cower beneath their might – when it came to the opposite sex.

She was sincerely ashamed for letting things get so out of hand. Both Donatello and Casey had deserved to be treated better. So when Casey appeared in her garden minutes after Raphael's departure, April was already on tenterhooks.

Her anxiety and the noon day sun had her sweating more than she deemed befitting of the group's token female, but despite her apprehension and sticky thighs, April knew she could procrastinate no longer. If Raphael could go and face his brother, April O'Neil could grow enough of a spine to confront Casey.

_70 Metres_

Too bad April could rival Raphael when it came to verbal eloquence.

Casey had not even spoken before the red-head blurted out, "I don't like you!"

April swore inwardly at her stupid remark while blaming her Kraang DNA, the sadistic gods of love triangles and their sinister sense of humour, and whoever or whatever else she could for her unrivalled tact. She had formed a semblance of a game plan as to how she would break the news to him, and starting with that introduction was not part of it. The vigilante looked down at her kneeling position in bewilderment, "What?"

The girl stood to face him with already reddened cheeks, "I mean I like you, but I don't like like you."

Casey wasn't about to make it easy, "Which means…?

She sighed, "I like you as a friend Casey."

"Just friends?"

She nodded, "Just friends."

_60 Metres_

He kicked the ground with the toe of his sneaker, "It's Don isn't it?"

April did not hesitate, "No it's not."

Casey raised his face in confusion, "Then there's no one?"

Now she was fidgeting with the bottom of her shirt, "No there's someone."

His eyes narrowed, "Who Red?"

She braced herself for the storm, "Raphael."

_50 Metres_

For a moment April thought Casey's eyebrows would shoot right off his face, "Raph? You like Raph? You've gotta be kidding me!"

April clenched her fists at the disapproving tone in his voice, "No I'm not Casey! I really do like Raph!"

He waved his hand in disbelief, "Let me get this straight. You like Raph, but you don't like me? Geez Red, what could he possibly got that I don't?"

Her already high temperature began to approach critical levels, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Isn't it obvious? I could understand if you went with Donnie over me since he's obviously got the brains, but Raph is well Raph. We're like the same person Red! Expect he's a giant talking turtle!"

April snapped, "Since when has that mattered?"

Casey retorted, "Since you decided to go for the turtle version of me!"

Anger snaked down her arms, coiled around her neck, and clenched her gut, "What so you think I should be with you just because you're the human?"

Casey cried in exasperation, "Well yeah! Unless he has something better to offer like Don has. Otherwise why the hell would you date a mutant turtle when you have a better alternative?"

_40 Metres_

April O'Neil could not deny that there had been a time when she was nervous of the turtles. It was natural that she would initially be shocked at their appearance. When she began to realize that they were much more than mutated reptiles, April had made it her mission to learn as much as she could about them. She believed that bigotry arose from fear and fear arose from ignorance. So by understanding them she would eventually lose her fear. It also helped her cope with the guilt of treating them like freaks when she first laid eyes on them.

If the teenager before her had said these things months ago, April would have empathized with his perspective. However, after being declared a vital ally to the turtles for ages, April expected Casey to be a little more open-minded. Casey was also supposed to be Raphael's best friend and yet here he was dismissing the turtle merely because he was a mutant, "Do you have any idea how prejudiced you sound? I thought you were cool with the guys!"

"I am cool with them! They're awesome, but I can't understand why you would find them more attractive than your own species!"

The inferno inside her began rippling to the surface, "It's because it doesn't matter to me! I love them for who they are! Not what they are!"

"And you think I don't? I'm just saying look at the reality Red. You hook up with one and they can't go out in public with you. They can't go to school. Hell they can't even get a proper house. I mean their Lair's cool and all, but it's still in the sewer!"

The April forced herself to take a calming breath. She was desperately trying to keep from viciously clawing the idiot before her, "Are you sure you're really upset about him being a turtle? What if Raph was a human? Would that change things?"

"Except he's not. He's a giant talking turtle."

_30 Metres_

April hated to admit it, but Casey was right: coming to appreciate the turtles as friends was in a whole other realm of acceptance than developing an intimate relationship with one. The red-head was not naïve to this reality. Unbeknownst to Casey Jones, April O'Neil had been struggling with this concept for months ever since she began to seriously consider the implications involved in pursuing a relationship with Donatello. In fact, many of the cons to having such a bond with Donatello had secretly provided April with fuel to justify her procrastination. Deep down, she had believed it would never work simply because he was a turtle and she was a human.

But she had never loved Donatello.

They were far from being in a steady relationship, but April felt tremendously different when she thought of being with Raphael. Before she believed he may have return her feelings, April had also assumed that it would never work merely because of their species differences. The obstacles then had simply seemed too great and the sacrifices too painful. Now, they didn't seem nearly as ominous.

Of course April had plenty of dreams and aspirations that did not depend on her being romantically involved with someone. She had grown up watching her Dad lovingly raise her while maintaining a successful career. April didn't have all the details worked out, but she did know she wanted to go to university. There she intended to invest in her love of Mathematics and hopefully find a career that would nurture her passion. She wanted to travel. She wanted a family. She wanted a life forged by her own hand and for a long time, April believed that would be enough.

Then she became more aware of her feelings for Raphael, and April began to silently rewrite her future. She was not afraid to alter her path so that he could somehow weave into the tapestry of her life, and if she could not go over an obstacle, she would go around it. April did not see why she could not still achieve all her dreams and goals in life with him in it. After all, if they came to truly love each other, wouldn't things work or for themselves? Love was supposed to be this powerful impenetrable force, but April preferred to think of it more fluidly and less rigidly. It just took a little bit of faith.

Maybe she was being unrealistically optimistic, but that was how April had always approached life in the past. Things didn't always happen exactly how she wanted, but somehow when she looked back, she was still always given what she had needed. She just hadn't recognized it at the time. So that's why April didn't care if the ones she loved were turtles or humans or whatever. If it was meant to work it would work and if it wasn't, well she wouldn't fight it. April already had her hands full fighting aliens and ninjas so why would she fight anything else?

_20 Metres_

Unfortunately, these realizations had come after months of sleepless nights full of soul-searching, and April – with her magical way of words – struggled with putting such feelings into a simple digestible packet of information when she was calm. Right now she was tired and pissed, causing her to convey her profound feelings regarding love accordingly, "Oh geez really? I hadn't fucking noticed! Just pretend for a second you ass!"

Casey leaned back slightly at her outburst before regaining his swagger, "I just don't understand what you see in him and not in me."

"What you think he's a pompous hard-headed ass wipe like you?"

This time he stood his ground, "Well he certainly ain't no Romeo. He's moody, hot-headed, aggressive, and sarcastic. Gee what great boyfriend material that is!"

April glowered, "Wow and you're obviously not? Come on Casey you've been his friend for months now. You know Raph has a lot more going on than that!"

Casey finally seemed to calm down a notch as he glanced away, "Yeah I guess…"

She cringed at the hurt in his voice, "What's this really about Casey?"

He remained silent and returned to digging a hole to China with his foot. April tried again, "Maybe you're upset?"

He swung his head up to roll his eyes, "No you think? Not only am I being kicked to the curb, but the guy who's responsible is supposed to be my best friend!"

April found her rage smouldering under his grief from rejection, "Casey…"

She jumped when he yelled at her, "I DON'T NEED YOUR PITY!"

So she countered with equal animosity, "WELL EXCUSE ME FOR TRYING NOT TO MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE A PIECE OF CRAP!"

Casey returned fire, "WELL ITS WAY TO LATE FOR THAT RED!"

_10 Metres_

April no longer even attempted to filter her rage, "ONLY BECAUSE YOU'RE BEING A STUBBORN ASS!"

"WELL YOU'RE BEING A PRISSY PRINCESS!"

"JERK FACE!"

"HARPY HAG!"

"BARBARIAN!"

"NOODLE ARMS!"

"PINEAPPLE BREATH!"

"EVIL VIXEN!"

"JEALOUS TWAT!"

"I'M NOT JEALOUS!"

April smirked, "Oh yeah, and I'm the Queen of Pisa."

Casey raised his arms in denial, "I. AM. NOT. JEALOUS." He breathed heavily for a moment then spun on his heel, "Whatever, I don't need this. I'm outta here!"

April tried to burn holes at his retreating back with her eyes. She was slightly amazed that the garden did not start sizzling from her presence alone. Hell, just even thinking of Casey Jones made her want to burn him to a crisp! She did feel bad about swearing at him, but what he had said about Raphael was uncalled for. His words had been flung from the bowels of pain and they had met their mark. It was because April felt his pain with every syllable he spoke, that she inevitably lashed out at him.

It still didn't make what he said right, but she hadn't been right to let things get this out of hand in the first place.

_0 Metres_

April knew it was over when she felt his breath on her neck. Within nanoseconds, he had her by the arms and flung her to the ground. He then proceeded to sit on her, ensuring that his bulk was on her enough to trap and not crush. April supposed she should be thankful that at least her end would not come from the crushing blow of turtle ass, but gratitude did not come easily when one was winded. Her face was cushioned by fresh grass and she could tell by his shaking body that he was laughing. After she regained her breath she groaned, "Raphael let me up!"

April felt sick at the glee in his voice, "No chance O'Neil."

Apparently there would be no second chances. April could only look forward to the cruel fate – ok admittedly she was perversely enjoying the feeling of his ass on her back – that a certain turtle would take all too much pleasure in delivering. So she awaited her sentence with her face full of grass, a huge mutant reptile on her back, and a heart full of courage. Naturally she cried like a little girl, "RAPHAAAAEEEEL! PLEEEEAAASSSSEEE LET MEEEEEE GO!"

The turtle did not relax even a bit, "Stop whining. You knew this was coming."

April continued to beg, "The water wasn't that cold!"

He snorted, "Says the girl who wasn't dunked."

"Come on! You're heavy!"

His voice took on a new edge of dark mockery, "You saying I'm fat O'Neil?"

April snapped, "You're not the one with the giant turtle ass on your back!"

Raphael chuckled, "Wow someone's grumpy. What's up with you?"

April growled, "More like what's on me! Get off!"

She felt him adjust ever-so-slightly, "Tsk, tsk. You know that's no way to bribe your captor."

"I'm not bribing you to get off me!"

A warm shiver went straight to her core when his lips brushed her ear. The damp fabric from his mask's tails licked her neck, "You sure about that? I told you I wanted payback."

April found herself torn between frustration and lust at his current positioning, "Raph…"

She lost her voice when a blush of warmth bloomed from her neck from a brush of a kiss. April decided her butterflies from earlier had relocated from her gut to her neck. Their wings sent tingling waves of pleasure down her skin. Once again he murmured darkly in her ear, "Do you still want me to get off?"

April still held some resentment towards her body's betrayal at her bid for freedom and her voice carried unnecessary ice, "Hmph. Like you'd listen."

April felt her ribs expand as Raphael moved his weight off of her. She raised herself onto her forearms to see him sitting nearby by with his legs crossed and his arms folded. She looked at him in confusion, "Why'd you stop?"

Raphael penetrated her with his intense emerald eyes, "I listened."

The red-head cocked her head to the side, "Huh?"

He continued to stare at her solemnly, "If this is too much tell me. I would never do something without your consent."

Suddenly the pieces clicked together in April's brain. Raphael was eager for fun, but only if she was willing. She found herself gaping stupidly at the turtle wondering how a male teenager growing up on TV without any real female influences had somehow managed to understand what consent meant.

But on the other hand, maybe he was terrified she would freak out on him.

Undoubtedly, he was self-conscious about their physical differences. He had demonstrated that at the lake shore when he examined her leg. He stared at her limb as if he had never seen anything like it, which in a way, was true. Casey's words floated back to the surface to remind her that Raphael was a mutant turtle and April was a human. If she had been struggling for months to come to terms with the acceptance of what their union would bring, he had to be going through similar motions. Knowing Raphael, he had probably never even allowed himself to consider the full implications until now, but unlike April, he didn't have to deal with it alone.

Raphael was cynical and would automatically assume that all she saw when she looked at him was a mutant freak. Yes, April saw his green scaly skin, his yellow plastron, and his patterned carapace, but she also saw _him_. He was more than a turtle to her, just like her father was more than a human. She did not care that he was a mutant. All she cared about was that under his stony expression was a terrified Raphael convinced this was all a dream and at any second he would wake up to find her repulsed by him. April refused to let that fear control him.

She looked up into those bright green eyes, and scooted over to where he sat. His expression was still grim, but mercifully, his eyes softened slightly. She pulled herself into his lap, "You don't have to be scared Raphael."

For a second he was still, undoubtedly fighting his own inner turmoil. Finally he gently wrapped his arms around her and whispered into her hair, "I'm trying."

She frowned hearing the uncertainty in his voice. Then she pulled herself off of him to lay belly down on the grass before him. She spoke resolutely while looking forward, "Here get back on."

He did not move, "April…"

April only relaxed further into the ground, "Hey you said you would listen. So prove it again! Get back on."

The grass sighed as he rose. April sensed him hovering over her for a moment before he sunk back down into his earlier position. They sat in awkward silence for a moment before April decided the turtle needed another push, "To reiterate, I bet the water wasn't that cold."

Her heart soared in relief when Raphael took the bait. He leaned forward to whisper again into her ecstatic ear, "That's why I need you to warm me up."

She smiled into the grass, "I suppose that's a fair request."

He murmured, "I'm an easy guy to please."

She wiggled and he adjusted his weight so that April could look at his face, "Same here tough guy."

A tiny smile crept onto his face as he leaned down to kiss her. Their bellies briefly touched as he lowered himself onto his forearms to assume a pseudo push-up position. April utilized her advantage of not having to hold herself up by caressing his shoulders. The delightful strain in his arms triggered her butterflies – spawned from his divine ministrations at the lake – to undergo another metamorphosis transforming them into fireflies. Their soft glow danced through her body feeding on her bliss.

Raphael evidently appreciated the gesture by lightly nipping at her lip before further deepening his kiss. His kindness guided her to relocate her feet allowing their bare toes to begin their own ballet. After a hopelessly short eternity, April opened her eyes when he released her breath. It was almost completely dark now, and his reptilian eyes glimmered. She had once found the reflective sheen of an animal's eyes frightening, but now she felt grateful and secure that she could see his light even in the dead of night. He was still holding himself carefully above her and she whispered in concern, "Aren't you tired?"

Even in the dim light she saw his smirk, "Is nothing."

Then he repositioned one arm towards his center and managed to snake his free arm under her back. Raphael raised her up and met her with another deep kiss all while cradling the majority of her weight. Initially she rolled her eyes – ok maybe Raphael was just as cocky as Casey – but still enjoyed this innovative embrace.

They released not long after and Raphael moved to the ground. He rolled onto his side and he was met by her snuggling into his arms. Once again they simply enjoyed each other's presence as the moon slowly began her luminous ascent. This time her partner broke the silence after a gentle kiss against her hair, "You still want this?"

April turned her eyes up to him in unease. After all the day's events, had he decided to back out? Did she do something wrong? Was she no longer enough? All these thoughts whirled anxiously through her mind, but she managed to respond with, "Don't you?"

Yet again she was met with those penetrating green eyes, "You know my answer."

And she did. She also knew why he was asking her now – Raphael was nothing like Casey – for it was the only thing he could do to ease his heart. April pushed up against his plastron and wrapped her hands around his head and looked straight into his eyes, "I do. It's the same as yours."

His tension still did not retreat, "It seems straightforward now, but when we go back to the city…"

She pulled his face closer so that their foreheads were almost touching, "It doesn't matter Raph. As long as we both want it, we'll make it work."

"You sure? I know you have things you want to do."

Now their foreheads connected, "And I am still going to do them, but they'll be better because now I can plan them with you. I know things may still change. There's a lot of life ahead of us, but with all the different paths I can take I know at least one of them will carry us both. All we have to do is find it."

Finally his body loosened and a tiny smile crept onto the corner of his mouth, "You sure you know what you're signing up for O'Neil? I have needs you know."

April rose to her feet and gave him her hand, "Well I know you expect sandwiches on a regular basis."

He took it and stood beside her, "Pizza is a good too."

"Riiiight and I'll be the first to deal with a diabetic mutant turtle."

Raphael wrapped his arm around her waist and turned her in the direction of the farmhouse, "Like I said, I have needs. Lots and lots of needs."

April scoffed, "I think I can handle it tough guy."

He chuckled and they walked in silence for a moment. Stars dusted the horizon and moonlight glazed the forest. When the house came into view Raphael softly spoke, "I want to plan it with you too."

April smiled, "Then we will."

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**A/N Thank-you so much to my fans, followers, and reviewers. You guys have really helped me stay motivated on this! Especially when I'm stuck on how to proceed you keep me chewing over the conflicts/events/characters until I get them right. So thank-you thank-you thank-you! **

**It's almost Christmas so Raphril cheer for all! Hurray! And if you don't celebrate Christmas, I hope whatever you're doing this lovely December week treats you well! =D**

**GuestZ: Thank-you for your kind words! I don't want to give anything away, but yes the tension between Raph, Casey, April, and Don is definitely going to cause some stress in the household to say the least. Also you will be pleased to hear that different POV's will continue to happen in upcoming chapters. I don't know if I can guarantee Mikey and Leo fluff, but I won't deny it could happen especially since there are many things that need to be resolved before the story's end. **

**Terri: Oh my gosh, thank-you so much! That means a lot to me considering that there are some seriously talented authors out there! I am also so happy that this is coming together so nicely. It's been challenging at times, but I am pleased with how things are going so far. **

**Tatsu Rose: Haha. That is totally the story of my life! My family knows I like TMNT but they have no clue how deep my obsession runs… I can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but it's probably good for the fandom since it means I'm going to continue writing for it for a while yet.**


	6. Chapter 6: Cold Spaghetti

**A/N Hey guys! So just a heads up this chapter is not probably not going to be a super pleasant experience. I know the canon hasn't really gotten into it, but Leo is going through shit. That is also why it's a shorter chapter than usual because it's a lot more mentally exhausting to write this kind of thing. Anyways thank-you once again for reading and reviewing! This is officially the most popular fic I have ever written and I couldn't have done it without you guys!**

**Also I still do not own TMNT, but as always I am eternally grateful for their existence!**

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Love or Blood

Chapter 6: Cold Spaghetti

Moving still

Leonardo's life – no his mind – had become a panoply of paradoxes. Once his thoughts had held consistency and structure. It had been cultivated on discipline and steeped in leadership. It was a warrior's mind and it strove for perfection.

Chaotic harmony

Now Leonardo's consciousness was a whirling disarray of madness. So easily he became overwhelmed with sounds, feelings, and memories. He was alone screaming in sleep. He was silently withdrawing awake.

That was the anarchy. Sometimes he wondered – when he was fit to contemplate – if that was better than the alternative. Yes, he spent time with order, but he did not sort and filter his thoughts.

Silent echoes

As often as he strayed in chaos he roamed in emptiness. Nothing to sort. Nothing to feel. Nothing to see. Just nothing.

A living breathing vacuum in the form of a mutant turtle. His eyes became glassy – he would know if he had the ability to examine his reflection – with no glimmer of recognition. Somewhere he was there, but to him he believed himself to be a barren wasteland of the condemned. A prison created by his own volition or so his mind told him.

Sometimes Leonardo would return and have moments of clarity when he suspected something was not quite right. Like when Raphael still helped him bathe and would ask him if the water was warm enough. Leonardo would run his fingers under each spigot and wondered why the water felt the same. Perhaps they had run out of hot water? He decided that must have been the case and chose to ignore the obvious presence of steam curling around one of the narrow cascades. Maybe physics had changed while he was asleep? For if his own unbreakable core could shatter, surely nature's laws too could meet a similar fate?

Hollow fullness

Then there was the food. Leonardo had never had Michelangelo or Raphael's appetites, but he had always enjoyed food nonetheless. He decided he must have been mistaken. Now anything consumed was bleak and chewy. Cardboard and sawdust ingested for the sole purpose of providing nutrition. Leonardo would sometimes wonder about that. If it was such an inconvenient hassle to obtain this so called "necessary fuel" why had they not invented a food pill years ago? That surely would be better than wasting time and energy cooking.

Yet when he watched the others at the table they seemed pleased with the concept, and there was that occasional nagging memory... So he would join them at meals and follow suit. Leonardo's efforts were rewarded with sludgy balls of bolus rolling uncomfortably through his gut until expelled.

Numb pain

Often Leonardo was in pain. Of course his injuries from his battle in New York provided him discomfort. Their severity demanded nothing less. Leonardo was extremely frustrated with their presence, but it was not these wounds that threatened the turtle's endurance. His ghost pains were far worse than any cut or fracture.

Every day at some point he would experience some form of their terror. He was plagued by crawling sensations on his skin when nothing was there. His adrenalin-filled legs would often spasm in agony, screaming for flight. He would panic at sudden stabs in the gut. His hands would cramp as though he were gripping his katana for his life. Every time he would jerk around abruptly looking for the source of his threat. Every time no one would be there. There would be no Foot, no Kraang, and there would be no Shredder ready to pierce him again with his gauntlet's blades.

Waking nightmares

Leonardo would give anything to undo what had happened in New York. The Kraang invasion, losing to Shredder, the death of… All of it had been a result of his failure. His failure to lead. His failure in ninjutsu. His failure to his brothers. His failure to Master Splinter. He had not been good enough, and now the world was suffering because of his incompetence.

All of his brothers had told him otherwise. They all claimed he had done his best. They said he had done nothing wrong and that no one could have prevented what happened. Leonardo knew the truth. His brothers were lying to him. Maybe they were lying in order to protect his feelings, but they could not hide from Leonardo what he had discovered on his own. They could not hide their brother from himself.

Dreaming awake

If he had been stronger, faster, smarter, and better trained. If he had been better. If he had been perfect. He should be perfect, but Leonardo couldn't be perfect. He had not been enough. He would never be enough, and Leonardo hated himself for it.

Leonardo may have been recovering physically, but as the months dragged on, his anger towards his failures began to turn inwards. That anger turned to hate and soon he was filled with only self-loathing. He was disgusted with himself. His reflection was repulsive. He hated the very skin he was in and felt himself itching in anxiety. He wanted to strip it off. He wanted to be someone – anyone – else.

But he couldn't.

Instead he was Leonardo. The failure. The screw-up. The bane of everyone's existence. It was obvious he was holding the others back. He was too weak to fight. Too weak to strategize. Too weak for anything.

Leonardo believed he deserved punishment for his cowardice. Justice sought its right and so Leonardo had to suffer even if it meant wandering in endless waking oblivion. It was his penance. The abyss became both prison and sanctuary. With every passing day, he drifted deeper into its folds.

As time inched by, he began to yearn for that emptiness. It was the lesser of two evils. It wasn't pleasant – that lonely solitary void – but at least he could ease the shame. At least he could ease the loathing. Instead, he felt nothing at all.

Grounded freedom

His stints in reality became fewer. It was cruel and unkind. It was a constant reminder of his sins – steel wool on his heart. When he was present, he noticed dark tentacles in his peripheral vision. Before leaving New York he had never seen such things. Then he would have been weary – if not afraid – of their presence. Here, they were his silent companions. Guardians that protected his heart, shielded his vision, and numbed his thoughts.

They gave him comfort and he yearned for their embrace. He did not fear them dragging him into the ground. In fact, he welcomed their presence and dreamt of the security of that heavy earth - soil filling his mouth, dirt clogging his ears, worms stroking his eyes. Leonardo did not tell the others of his dark angels. He did not want to share them. They were his alone – his promise of salvation.

Familiar strangers

Leonardo jerked back to reality to examine a cold plate of spaghetti. He was trying to remember how he came to be in possession of said meal – not to mention what he was supposed to do with it – when he heard sounds outside the farmhouse. Although the ability was slowly starting to ebb, Leonardo still was forcibly pushed to some level of awareness from the many years of his training. Part of him eagerly anticipated the moment when even that would no longer call him back – maybe then he would find the respite he sought.

After a listening a moment, Leonardo identified the voices to belong to Raphael and April. The eldest turtle hadn't even realized Raphael had been absent all day until April mentioned it while cooking. By the time dinner was served and steam was wafting up from the sauce-coated noodles, Leonardo had managed to deduce that only April and him were at the house. April had instinctively responded to his worry and set out to find their missing comrades, insisting Leonardo eat while she searched. After only a few minutes, the turtle had sunk back into his previous state and only now was returning. He glanced at the clock and realized April had been gone almost two hours. Not only had Leonardo not managed to eat anything, but he had no clue if anyone else had returned.

The old Leonardo would have been concerned by absence of Michelangelo, Donatello, and Casey. Now he felt he could not be bothered, which left him feeling both empty and even more ashamed and doubly yearning once more for his eerie asylum.

Leonardo's glassy eyes observed April and his brother enter the kitchen. They both kept glancing at the other with subtle smiles lingering on their lips. The oldest turtle was wondering if he should ask what the joke was, when April's eyes locked onto his full plate of noodles, "Is something wrong Leo?"

All the turtle could do was cock his head in confusion. April gestured in his plate's direction, "You haven't eaten anything. Is my cooking that bad?"

Slowly the dusty cobwebbed pieces chinked together, "Huh? No it was great April! I guess I just wasn't hungry."

The red-head frowned, "You haven't been sitting here the whole time I was gone have you?"

Raphael had been watching this exchange. His arms were folded and Leonardo thought he bore an uncharacteristically pensive expression considering the circumstances, "I was just lost in thought! Is that a crime?"

April flinched slightly at Leonardo's tone and Raphael's frown deepened, "Look Leo, don't get all pissy. April's just worried about you."

Leonardo rolled his eyes, "There's nothing to worry about. I'm fine."

Raphael looked as though he had something a little more vicious to say on the matter, but his reply was halted abruptly by the appearance of one Casey Jones. The male teenage stormed into the room, took one look at April and Raphael standing side-by-side and instantly saved Leonardo from further interrogation, "Wow Red, not wasting any time are you?"

The red-banded turtle bristled and April snapped, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Casey leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, "Exactly what you think it does."

Before April could respond, Raphael took a step towards Casey, "Listen Jones, if you've got a problem-"

Leonardo felt like his eyes had entered an unscheduled tennis match in their kitchen when Casey interrupted with a smirk, "It's your girlfriend who has a problem Raph."

Once again Leonardo's brain was valiantly struggling to push the pieces of this new puzzle together, but if the last puzzle was dusty, this one was covered in cement. His confusion was answered by April's response, "No, I'm pretty sure you're the one with the problem Casey."

April grabbed Raphael's hand – Leonardo felt his jaw unhinge at his brother's blush – and turned her eyes reassuringly up to the red-banded turtle before returning her glare at Casey, "It's Raphael and my choice to be together, not yours."

Leonardo knew he must have missed something. The eldest turtle had no idea April and his brother had feelings for each other. Of course he knew about Donatello, but Raphael? That in itself was another question Leonardo grasped onto: what about Donatello? Did this brother know of this new romantic alliance? The blue-banded turtle felt his stomach coil in shame. How long had he been gone – either asleep or awake – to miss such developments?

The shame threatened to choke him and Leonardo found himself withdrawing right in front of the others. He had once again failed his family. He had failed them all.

Silently screaming

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**A/N To my lovely reviewers:**

**Jugalomalice: Thank-you for your kind words! It has indeed been tricky at times for that very reason. I have to admit I've had to dig through many 2k12 episodes to find hints of Raphril (or that I chose to interpret as Raphril). Hopefully you'll continue to enjoy the story as it progresses!**

**Terri: I know! I feel the same way! I just want them to be together officially! I swear I've watched the end of "Race with the Demon" a billion times just to bask in that moment's glory. Oh well in the meantime I will just have to satisfy myself with writing them together =P Thank-you again for reading and reviewing! I am using another new format with this chapter that I think fits Leo's POV and current situation quite well. So please let me know what you think =)**

**GuestZ: Yeah Donatello is going to struggle for a while yet… I won't give away things with Casey though since I'm getting into that more below =) And I'm glad the Raphril part came across well! I really can't get enough of those two 3**

**Komnenid: Haha I totally agree! I know the canon always has Casey and April as the go-to couple and although I like Casey I always wanted April to end up with one of the turtles. I like Donnie too... but I like Raph better. Also thank-you so much for reading, reviewing, favouriting, and following me! It is very much appreciated and I am so excited to have another fan =D**


	7. Chapter 7: Hard Heads and Hot Heads

**A/N As per usual I still own nothing and I am still eternally grateful for the existence of TMNT.**

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Love or Blood

Chapter 7: Hard Heads and Hot Heads

Casey Jones: bashing heads on the rink by day, slamming lowlife criminals on the streets by night. A hero on both steel and ice. New York City's designated saviour in and out of the classroom. A definite self-proclaimed badass.

Yes, Casey Jones would not hesitate to boast his numerous – if fantastical – accomplishments to a certain red-headed babe. When he first met her he had merely wished to convince her that he was more than a brainless jock. April O'Neil was not the first girl to snub him at first glance – losing one's incisors tended to have that effect – but often enough a little Jones' Charm was all it took. In the past, when Casey wanted a date, he got one. She was different. Despite all his impressive swagger, Casey found himself striving for ways to impress this new girl. At first, he was attracted to her supposed "lack of interest," but soon enough Casey realized he had actually fallen for the girl.

And Casey Jones never fell.

Sure, he had dated plenty of nice girls, but he never really felt much for them. For Casey his one and only love was hockey. His mother passed away shortly after the birth of his little sister, and for a long time it was really just his dad and him. His sister had been born premature and spent months in the hospital as a result. The strongest of men would have crumbled at the combined loss of their wife and a newborn daughter on the brink of death for weeks on end. Casey's father did not. Instead, he saw to his troubled young son, and therein began a lifelong love of the winter sport. Hockey then was how the two boys coped in a lonely world full of pain and loss. Later, it would become both Casey's passion and the foundation of his relationship with his Father.

Then the day came that Casey and his Father could take his tiny sister home, and of course they welcomed her with open arms into their icy solace. Casey had been quite young at the time, but he still could vividly remember his father bundling his sister up and hauling her to the rink with them nearly every winter day. The death of Casey's mother had been excruciating, but it was that loss that bound her three surviving family members together. Yet, being a single parent is far from easy. Casey's father wanted to provide his kids with the best life he could, which meant many long hours working away from home. Where the three members had been close, the two siblings became inseparable.

Casey took his big brother role very seriously. He was there when she took her first steps. He was there when she said her first words. He was there when she put on her first skates. Yet, for all the times he was there for her, Casey's sister was there for him. She knew when he needed a hug. She knew when he needed a laugh. She knew when he needed a friend.

But life did not stop for them.

The Jones children grew and started to see each other less. As Casey moved up the hockey ranks, he began to get scouted. Once he entered high school, Casey Jones' name was known throughout the league and his coaches began to subtly groom him. By the time he graduated, more people than just Casey were hoping for him to get drafted to one of the big names. Big names meant more practice, which meant more time from home, which meant more time away from his sister. Between his schedule, and his sister's own commitments, sometimes the siblings would go days without seeing the other. It was inevitable that they would start to lose some of their childhood closeness. Then Casey met April and was introduced to the true nature of New York City.

A vigilante was born and a brother was lost.

Casey and his sister continued to drift apart: the closer he grew to April and the turtles the less familiar he was with his sister. Naturally Casey still thought of his sister often, for she was a large component to his motivation to fight the Kraang and Foot. He sought to protect his sister along with the other inhabitants of New York. His oath to keep the turtles a secret meant his sibling had no idea what he was regularly up to, but for once Casey was content with not showing off to her. As long as she was safe he was happy. It was a different strategy than he was accustomed. Still, Casey Jones played to win and his victory meant a safe sister and a hot girlfriend. When the Kraang invaded, everything fell apart.

And Casey lost.

One morning Casey was waving goodbye to his sister and father, and the next morning he was a refugee in the boondocks of North Hampton. His family? Probably mutated in Kraang Prime's ghastly image.

One does not play hockey for as many years as Casey without losing at some point. Losing meant learning and learning meant improving. One loss did not mean the loss of the war, but the vigilante still chalked up a few dire causalities that deeply affected him.

The first had come with the loss of his best friend Nick. One wrong move had changed everything. At first the teenager had been just as furious as his former friend. He cursed the world and its unfairness and the downright stupidity of the entire circumstance. However, eventually Casey managed to approach this loss as if it were any other and sought the silver lining. He forced himself to learn from it, and although the sting was still there, Casey realized that sometimes no matter how hard you try, things are just out of your control. A hard lesson to learn, even harder to accept especially when the unthinkable encompasses one's family.

His loved ones were lost, and Casey coped with it the only way he knew how: by deeming the situation out of his control and just putting it behind him. Except the only problem was that unlike with Nick, where Casey had not meant to hurt his friend, the Kraang had fully intended to hurt his family and everyone else in New York City. The hockey player just hadn't realized that yet. This was mostly because in his determination to just accept the situation for what it was, Casey ironically cast it into a place where he denied its very existence thereby botching the lesson entirely.

Consequently, he turned to any potential distraction that would prevent the pain from resurfacing while simultaneously avoiding anything that would enable true reality to resurface. Obsessing over projects with Donatello, fighting for rights to April, and avoiding any reminder of Leonardo's plight were just a few of his favoured pastimes. Sadly that meant while Leonardo was unconscious Casey rarely visited the wounded reptile, and this in turn allowed him to avoid Raphael. For Raphael not only reminded Casey of their injured leader, but also of the things Casey had lost.

Maybe that was how Casey managed to miss Raphael's growing affections for April.

At first when April told Casey of this new romantic development, he wasn't sure what made him angrier: the fact that he had lost the object of his affections or the fact that he had become so distant from his supposed best friend that he had failed to notice how Raphael was feeling. Casey felt both pissed and ashamed, and naturally that shame manifested as more anger due to Casey Jones' charming way with emotions.

It was not surprisingly then, that he snapped at April, and said some fairly nasty things. It wasn't that he had a problem with April dating one of the guys – turtle or otherwise – it was more Casey had a problem with one of the guys dating her instead of him. Also, although Casey strove to learn from his mistakes and losses, one of the reasons he did so was because he knew he was a pretty sore loser. Making him gain something from a loss was the only way he really knew how to deal with it. Unfortunately, April's romantic confession had caught him off guard. Casey had reacted on impulse, and his mind didn't even glance over what potential good could come from this new development.

Casey realized too late what was happening, and so he had needed the better part of the day to regain his sanity. When he thought he could finally be civilized once more, he returned to the house but seeing Raphael right beside April had made something begin to snap, "Wow Red, not wasting any time are you?"

Of course the red-banded turtle instantly registered Casey's aggression, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Casey leaned one shoulder against the doorframe. He probably should have been a little more careful with his words considering Raphael was now far stronger than him since the turtle had actually been training regularly. It wasn't that Casey wasn't exercising, but often he and Donatello would skip practice when immersed in a project. Plus, Raphael tended to rely on training to burn off his pent up energy and so of all the farmhouse inhabitants, he had actually built the most muscle tone since their arrival. However, Casey was beyond caring for his wellbeing, "Exactly what you think it does."

Raphael took a step towards Casey, "Listen Jones, if you've got a problem-"

Most would have backed down by the look on the red-banded turtle's face, but Casey decided if he was going down he was taking whatever he could with him, "It's your girlfriend who has a problem Raph."

April spoke up, "No, I'm pretty sure you're the one with the problem Casey."

The human was unsurprised by April's interjection. She definitely had a backbone and was not afraid to use it. That was one of the things Casey loved most about April. Then April grabbed Raphael's hand, "It is Raphael's and my choice to be together, not yours."

And any lingering positive thought was burned from Casey's mind. Her words and their physical contact gorged at his heart. All his buried emotions from the past few months seemed to suddenly bloom to the surface.

His city was lost. His Father was lost. His sister… His little baby sister was lost. And now he had lost both April and Raphael.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. It wasn't how things were supposed to be.

Casey Jones felt something snap, "LIKE HELL ITS NOT! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH I'VE GIVEN UP? FOR YOU GUYS? FOR YOU APRIL?"

Before April could retort, Raphael pulled from her grasp and deftly slipped himself in between her and Casey. The turtle snarled, "No one asked you to give up anything Jones!"

The human sneered, "Like you needed to! I thought it was obvious how useless you guys are!"

Within a breath, Casey Jones found himself shoved against a wall. Raphael slammed his right forearm across the human's neck moderately crippling Casey's trachea. The vigilante could feel the turtle's hot breath on his face and saw the reptilian left arm threatening to lay into him when his opponent hissed, "Want to say that again Jones?"

April materialized at Raphael's side to restrain the turtle's punching arm. Casey vaguely registered the scrapping of a chair heralding Leonardo's movement, but the hockey player was only concerned with the being before him.

If he had never met Raphael, he would have never gotten involved in this whole turtle catastrophe. If he had never met Raphael, April could have been Casey's. If he had never met Raphael, Casey would not have lost his family! He spit in the turtle's face, "FUCK OFF!"

Anxious silence filled the room as April and Leonardo awaited the imminent explosion from the turtle before them. Raphael obviously struggled to keep his cool as he responded with a few deep inhales and exhales. Eventually he responded with a deadly whisper, "Wrong answer Jones. You've got one more try."

But Casey only laughed coldly, "Ha! I wouldn't be pinned against a wall right now if I was wrong! You know I'm right! I leave you guys alone for five minutes and guess what happens?"

April whined, "Casey…"

The vigilante's eyes flicked to April and back to the ferocious green orbs before him, "Don't feel sorry for me Red, I'm not the one who let my Dad get flushed."

If April hadn't been hindering Raphael's arm, Casey Jones would have had his face punched in. Instead, the irate reptile dragged April along with his punch and managed to still procure enough force to thrust the source of his wrath through the kitchen's screen door. The door carried its now bloodied cargo across the porch with a tremendous crash before cracking to a halt when it careened onto the lawn.

April held on to dear life while Raphael, oblivious to the sudden addition of weight on his elbow, bolted across the porch to land above the quivering pile of human flesh. The humans' eyes connected fueling April to cry at the turtle she valiantly continued to maintain her grasp, "RAPHAEL STOP!"

Finally the mutant became aware of the girl glued to his arm. He looked at her evidently confused by her presence, "April…?"

Raphael's eyes flitted between the boy at his feet and the girl as his arm as April continued, "Raphael please… Please calm down."

Casey – especially his now aching head – was immensely grateful for the look of dawning comprehension in the mass of rage above him. The tension continued to ebb when Raphael stepped off of Casey and murmured, "Fuck…"

April appeared reluctant to withdraw her hold from Raphael, but the turtle managed to shrug her off now that she caught more of his attention. Casey managed to raise himself up to see a perplexed Leonardo on the porch but his attention was drawn to a voice behind him, "What the shell is going on?"

Donatello had decided to grace them with his presence at the most optimal of times. Casey turned to face the newly arrived turtle and groaned while gesturing to the couple, "Don, what do you think of this?"

The purple-clad turtle tilted his head thoughtfully, "Of what?"

Casey snapped, "Of April and Raphael hooking up! What else?"

Donatello's eyes glazed briefly over the indicated problem before returning his gaze to Casey, "And…?"

The sitting human huffed in exasperation, "You cannot tell me you are ok with this?!"

The turtle shrugged and then moved past the crowd towards the house, "You just need to accept it Casey. I'm going to bed."

Casey felt his jaw drop when the bo-wielding reptile turned and addressed everyone with a voice sounding perfectly cheery, "Goodnight everyone!"

Raphael evidently was surprised as well, "Uh… Goodnight Don?"

Donatello grinned at this particular brother while Casey cried in desperation, "Are you serious? I thought you were head over heels for her?"

Donatello paused, "It wasn't in my control," and without further ado, he disappeared into the house.

Awkward silence started to set in when Leonardo at last spoke up, "Well if you guys are good, I'm going to bed too."

Leonardo did not even wait for the others to respond before following after his younger brother. April and Raphael exchanged looks, whose meaning was lost on Casey. Instead he focused on Donatello's departing words: "_It wasn't in my control."_

A memory of his friend Nick the last time Casey saw him washed to the surface followed by a conversation the vigilante had once had with April:

_April, "It's not like you meant it."_

_Casey, "Right. Some stuff is just beyond our control."_

It was as if a fog had been lifted in Casey's mind. New York, his Father, his sister, April, Raphael… All of it. All of it had been beyond his control. It was still hard to accept, but it didn't change the reality. He slowly rose to his feet and turned to April, "It was beyond my control. Wasn't it?"

April's eyes glimmered in understanding and she nodded. Casey continued, "And it's not like you meant it to happen either. Right?"

She nodded again, "Right."

Casey knew. She was not sorry, but she was not immune to his pain either. He turned to address Raphael while rubbing the back of his head in humility, "Hey man, I'm sorry for being such a twat earlier. I didn't mean what I said about your Dad. I just forgot about something I guess."

Raphael crossed his arms, his mouth in a firm line, "Yeah well it happens. Uh… Sorry for chucking you out with the door."

The human boy half-heartedly laughed, "Don't worry. I got a hard head."

The turtle snorted, "That's one way of putting it."

Casey shrugged, "How about you help me fix the door and we call it even?"

Raphael rolled his eyes, "Wasn't my skull that broke it."

Casey retorted, "Because I always go through doorways head first!"

"I'm not judging."

The hockey player reached down and began to drag the door off the ground, "Just help me you knob."

Casey saw a slight grin quirk at the corner of the turtle's mouth as he helped lift the door from the ground. As they tilted their cargo into the doorway, a thought occurred to the vigilante, "Hey where's Mikey?"

* * *

**A/N Haha yes I did it! In your face procrastination! So for all you Casey fans out there at least here is a chapter focusing on our favourite vigilante! And yes Casey still has stuff to come to terms with. We just caught a glimpse of the surface here because obviously there is NO WAY he's just all cool and dandy about his family getting Kraangified. Ahhhh so much to talk about and so little time!**

**To my wonderful and lovely reviewers:**

**Once again thank-you so much for all your reviews! It was mind-blowing for me to get so many reviews in such a short period of time. None of my other stuff has been nearly this popular so it is very exciting to me! **

**Komnenid: More like Casey was referring to Raph and April already being close together (when really they have been for months just Casey was oblivious). Nonetheless I agree pissing Raphael off is never a good idea as you shall see soon enough…**

**Musicalocelot: I know! I feel sooo bad for the guy. I have to admit writing him in such a state was a little hard on me because I love Leo so much! It makes me long for the happy-go-lucky Leo of season one.**

**Terri: I know darn PG rules! lol I guess that's what the comics are for. While writing the last few chapters I went back to original comics to help give me a bit of inspiration. Even there the turtles' feelings are totally hashed out, but it's at least seriously hinted at. I am also so glad that you are enjoying it! When I first started planning this tale out I was originally going to just focus on Raph and April, but then the more I dug into their characters the more I realized I couldn't go into all the detail I wanted without diving into the others' psyches as well. They are just so close and so interconnected that if something happens to one of them it really does happen to all of them. Consequently in case you're wondering, Donatello's POV is coming. I have nothing against the guy, I just have a bit more to write first and the timing worked out better for it to be after the other POV's.**

**GuestZ: Yep. It was short, but there was a lot in it (or that's what I was aiming for). I agree it is really not a good place to be… So don't worry I'm not going to leave him in the darkness forever. **

**mommason: Thank-you! I'm also super excited to hear from new people that they are enjoying it! =D**


	8. Chapter 8: Arboreal Turtles

**A/N I still do not own TMNT, but I will forever be grateful for their existence.**

**Also, thank-you once again for reading and reviewing! **

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Love or Blood

Chapter 8: Arboreal Turtles

Moonlight reflected by the lake's waters cast ghostly rays upon the surrounding woods, while the stars blinked in and out of focus as grainy clouds slid through the dark sky. His skin tingled under the cool breeze, and although the night was relatively warm, a chill was fixed into his bones. He vaguely wondered if bone marrow could freeze.

The lone turtle had been perched on the same branch for hours. His rump had been asleep for almost as long, and yet even the draw of a hot meal and a warm bed could not tempt him away from his vigil. His enemies intangible, his nunchakus useless, but still he remained on guard; praying relief would come with the sun. Only eight hours until dawn.

He was never going to make it.

Still, despite his numb bum and frozen fingers Michelangelo could not bear to face what undoubtedly awaited him in the farmhouse. So he sat on his tree branch while chewing over the events of the day. The most notable of the evening was his observation of the various love-struck nomads to come across the watery shore.

For a long time, Michelangelo had been the only occupant at the lake besides the native fauna. Raphael had later sat on the beach for a good hour and never once became aware of his brother's presence. Then April appeared, but it wasn't the red-head's appearance that made the smallest turtle cower in his vegetative asylum. No, that credit was owed to the emergence of Donatello while a certain couple was engaging in certain displays of affection. Raphael and April had been unaware of the other turtles, and Donatello had unfortunately only been unaware of Michelangelo's presence. The purple-clad turtle had made it distinctly obvious that he saw the budding romance. Based on the look on Donatello's face, Michelangelo knew the entire situation was deteriorating alarmingly fast. His hope for the immediate future did not improve when a similar look graced April's features at the mere mention of her talk with Casey.

Michelangelo knew he should go back and be what his family needed him to be, but after Donatello's earlier comments, the orange-clad turtle found himself wondering why he even bothered. Frankly, it was hard enough trying to keep Leonardo out of the dumps. A whole pack of moody brooding teenagers was more than a little intimidating.

He didn't want any member of the party using him as an outlet for their pent up frustrations. All the bases were covered now: Raphael would beat the shell off of him – well he did that anyway but whatever –, Leonardo would leave him in the fetal position in the bedroom closet, Donatello would leave him with an inferiority complex, and Casey would probably nail him in the head with a hockey puck. As for April? She was the wild card. The unknown. A deity of love or a harbinger of death. Either way he didn't want to know. Being Raphael's go-to punching bag was more than enough thank-you very much. Michelangelo never signed up for any more than that.

Luna's pale eyes gave Michelangelo an appraising stare and the turtle confessed that maybe he was exaggerating the situation a little bit. Nonetheless, exaggeration or not, it didn't make handling the others any easier. That was why the turtle was in the front lines of his current internal debate – satiating his hunger versus avoiding melodramatic family affairs – when he was startled out of his battling thoughts, "Mikey, what are you doing up there?"

The perching turtle looked down to see Raphael. Michelangelo silently cursed before responding with his usual cheery banter, "I'm sitting in a tree."

Michelangelo could practically hear Raphael's eyes rolling, "Wow gee really? I had no idea! You know what I mean shell-for-brains!"

But the small turtle was not ready to give his brother any slack, "What else do you want? That is literally all I'm doing!"

"You've been gone all day Mikey."

The turtle swung his legs playfully, "It's a nice tree bro."

Raphael paused a moment then smirked, "You're stuck aren't you?"

Michelangelo was offended by the sheer ridiculousness of his brother's comment – admittedly, the turtle was fairly sure he was indeed partially glued to the tree via sap; not to mention, he was more than a little concerned about how his numb butt would survive its return back to earth. Michelangelo decided Raphael need not be informed of such details and replied in an insulted tone, "No I'm not!"

Raphael replied exasperated, "Mikey…"

Michelangelo countered with equal exasperation, "It's a _really_ nice tree!

The turtle below folded his arms, "Good enough to sit in all day?"

The tree-dwelling terrapin thrust his arms out and gestured, "With this view it is!"

His brother shouted up again, "Quit being stupid!"

Although Michelangelo did not show it, inwardly he bristled. He loathed any of his brothers calling him stupid. What made the comment even worse, was that Raphael knew all too well how Michelangelo felt about it. If the youngest turtle was self-conscious about anything, it was his secret worry that his intellect was inferior to his brothers. Yes, Donatello had them all beat, but Michelangelo wanted to believe he was at least in the same ballpark as his other two brothers. A tongue protruded in Raphael's direction, "Says the guy who let April dunk him earlier."

Once again the orange-clad turtle found himself silently cursing – he did seem to be doing that a lot lately – at mentioning what he had planned not to tell. Raphael's eyes narrowed as he pieced together the implications of the younger's statement. Michelangelo did not miss the hint of anger in his brother's voice, "You were spying on us?"

Michelangelo stammered when he saw his brother approach the trunk, "It wasn't like that bro!"

He was not at all pleased at how fast Raphael was ascending the lower branches, "YOU SNEAK!"

He had also confirmed his butt was indeed stuck – in fact hopelessly stuck – to the branch. He began to panic, "I swear Raph I-"

His words died when his sibling materialized on his chosen branch, "You are so dead Mikey."

In a desperate attempt to deter his brother's rage the immovable turtle squeaked, "I'm not the only one who saw!"

Raphael stopped dead in his tracks, "Who… Who else saw?"

Michelangelo took his opening, "Who do you think? Donnie did."

His brother managed to maintain his balance as he sank into a crouch, "There's no way!"

This time it was the freckled turtle's turn to roll his eyes, "Dude anyone could have seen you guys. You were right in the open! Do you think you're the only one who comes to the lake to mope? It's like moping central for mutant turtles everywhere!"

Raphael's green eyes met Michelangelo's blue, "Don was moping?"

The younger brother's expression softened, "Of course he was Raph. After finally finding out about you and April what else could he do?"

Raphael pinched the skin between his eyes, "Shit. I'm such an ass."

The reptile beside him shrugged, "Well yeah, you kind of are. Especially after getting it on with the girl of his dreams the same day you told him he wasn't the one. Kinda tactless there bro. I would have thought after so long you and April could have at least resisted until the next day."

The turtle swung his legs over the branch mirroring his companion's position, "First of all, we didn't "get it on," and second, you knew?"

Michelangelo reached out and held his brother's shoulder, "Raph you guys have been dancing around each other for months. Trust me, I knew."

"Was it that obvious?"

The younger turtle grinned slightly as he removed his hand, "Don't worry the rest of our merry band is just as observant as you."

Raphael chuckled darkly, "Yeah well, being in the loop isn't so great. Just ask Donnie." The two sat in silence for a moment before the elder responded in a quiet voice, "I screwed things up big time, didn't I?"

When Michelangelo summoned his memory of his earlier interaction with Donatello, he knew there was no way this brother would recover quickly, but then Raphael's eyes captured his once more. Everyone always assumed Michelangelo was the King of Puppy Dog Eyes; however said turtle would beg to differ. Maybe it was because he was usually trying to act so tough or maybe it was because he thought he was above such soft and squishy emotions, but Michelangelo had no doubt that when Raphael put those emerald eyes into Bambi mode all hope was lost. The orange-clad brother just did not have the heart to resist. He couldn't tell Raphael the truth, "Nah bro. Uh… I'm sure he'll get over it. Just maybe give him a little more time. Oh and maybe try to limit the PDA's."

Raphael solemnly nodded before tossing a knowing expression to his brother, and wrapped his arm around the younger's shoulder, "You're a good brother Mikey. You know that?"

Michelangelo tilted his head and grinned, "You know it! The Mikester is the best at all things brotherly!"

The elder chuckled softly and briefly returned the grin before becoming serious again, "Are you really alright Mikey?"

His face was hurting under the strain of his false smile, but the turtle refused to surrender to weak facial muscles, "Of course Raphie! Never better!"

Raphael lightly squeezed his little brother's shoulders, "You sure?"

Michelangelo felt his resolve start to crack, "Seriously, I'm fine Raph."

His brother frowned, "You know that's the second time today someone has told me they're fine."

"And…?"

"They aren't."

Michelangelo's eyes began to water. He averted his brother's gaze by turning away, "Who says I'm not?"

"I know you Mikey."

He didn't want Raphael to probe any further, "Look Raph can we just talk about something else?"

Michelangelo saw in his peripheral vision two demanding green eyes aimed in his direction. Finally, Raphael turned his gaze to the lake. For several minutes they sat just staring at the moonlit waters. Small wavelets brushed the rocky shore, gently rocking the slender reeds. It was still too early in the season for crickets, but the breeze rustled the first leaves and occasional crunches declared nocturnal creatures about their business. Reluctantly, the younger turtle sighed into the night, "Do you ever feel like screaming at the top of your lungs, but when you do, you don't feel any better?"

Raphael continued to stare straight ahead, "Who are you talking to?"

The younger turtle peered over to see his brother sporting a slight smirk. Raphael didn't even bother to return his brother's stare, "Right. Sorry. Just a stupid turtle asking a stupid question."

Raphael abruptly turned to give Michelangelo a piercing glare, "You're not stupid Mikey."

The orange mask wrinkled in response to its owner's frown, "Dude you just called me stupid like ten minutes ago."

His brother folded his arms, "No. I was telling you to stop acting stupid. There's a difference between acting stupid and being stupid."

Michelangelo was not so easily persuaded, "Don't start throwing your grammar voodoo at me dude. Your exact words were and I quote: "stop being stupid!" Last time I checked, that phrase meant: "You are stupid.""

"Grammar's not…" The elder sighed, "Look that's not what I meant."

The freckled turtle ignored his brother's guilty expression, "But it's what you said!"

Raphael snapped, "Mikey, if anything I'm the stupid one for always saying stupid shit and fucking things up!"

Michelangelo was silenced for a moment by the sorrow flowing from his brother. If it were not for a lifetime living alongside Raphael, he would have been rattled by the abrupt change from wrath to sorrow. The sheer vulnerability in his brother's eyes struck him deeply, "Raph, that's not true."

Raphael laughed darkly, "How is it not Mikey? I fall for the girl my brother loves. Then I break said brother's heart. Then I hurt you. Oh and did I mention I threw Casey through a door earlier?"

"Uh…"

The red-clad turtle continued, "Because I did. If it wasn't for April I would have pounded the snot out of him, and don't even get me started on the whole Leo deal." Raphael leaned his head into his hands and exhaled sharply, "Damn it…"

Michelangelo's heart ached. It ached for Raphael. It ached for Donatello. It ached for Leonardo. It ached for all of them.

It ached for himself.

The smaller turtle tried to shimmy closer to his brother before remembering his derriere's sticky predicament. Despite himself, a snort of laughter breached the turtle's defenses to be met by a deadly glare from Raphael, "What the hell Mike!? How is any of this funny?"

Raphael's tone should have put the fear of God into his heart, but Michelangelo could only snort again in laughter before responding, "It's not you Raph. It's just… I was totally going to hug you just now, but then I remembered my butt is still stuck to the tree!"

Raphael's expression warred between confusion and anger, "You serious?"

The younger continued to giggle, "Serious as sap."

The elder lifted an eye ridge, "Sap?"

Michelangelo nodded in confirmation, "Sap."

Raphael cracked. The elder's chuckles permitted Michelangelo to fully succumb to his joy, and soon the older reptile was laughing just as hard as the younger. The turtles sat there laughing until their sides hurt and their eyes watered. Eventually, their aching ribs eased them into the occasional giggle accompanied by boyish grins.

Raphael was the first to vocalize a lucid thought, "So you want some help?"

"If you're not too busy."

A mischievous smile appeared on the red-clad turtle's face, "I don't know… I do have a pretty hectic schedule."

The thought of being stuck in a tree all night fed an edge of panic in the younger's voice, "Doing what?"

That evil grin held strong, "Sleeping. Video games. The usual."

Michelangelo playfully snapped, "Dude just get over here."

It took a bit of innovative sai manipulation and a few shrill shrieks from a certain freckled individual, but with the help of Raphael, Michelangelo was finally freed from his vegetative prison. The turtle rubbed his sore behind, "Dude remind me not to pick a fight with a tree."

Raphael began to walk in the direction of the farm, "Only you would try to fight a tree Mikey."

The orange-clad turtle followed at his brother's heels, "Hey, you can't trust a pine."

Once again Michelangelo swore he could hear his sibling's eyes rolling, "Riiiiight. Whatever you say."

They walked in companionable silence for a while. Both turtles were all too aware of their grumbling stomachs and complaining legs. The sai-wielding brother continued to look straight ahead as though talking to no one in particular, "I feel like screaming all the time."

Raphael paused at Michelangelo's reply, "How do you deal with it?"

The elder tilted his head up to the heavens, "I let it out anyway."

"Ah so that's where you get your charming personality."

Raphael sighed, "It's better than the alternative."

The younger questioned, "What's that?"

The lead reptile did not reply for a moment. Instead he resumed walking before answering, "Think about it."

Michelangelo almost instantly knew the answer. He whispered to the air, "Leo…"

The green-eyed turtle responded, "Leo."

Once again the brothers found themselves lost in their own thoughts, yet somehow in the quiet they felt less alone. Once the farmhouse came into view, Raphael glanced at the younger, "We good?"

Blue met green once more, but this time each were filled with understanding. Sapphires vertically bobbed in answer, "Yeah bro, we're good."

Raphael protectively wrapped an arm around his shorter brother's shoulders, "Don't worry, I've got your back little brother."

The embraced sibling grinned up and then abruptly swung his arms around the other's shell, "Thanks Raph."

The brothers entered the house, the light inside a beacon in the darkness to come.

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**A/N To my lovely reviewers:**

**Komnenid: Ah yes Donatello… We will find out more about his thoughts very very soon…**

**GuestZ: Yeah I always pictured Casey as the type who is quick to fight, yet quick to forgive. He still has a bit to go, but as we'll see in the coming chapters he's really not the problem. **

**Terri: =) Thank-you! I don't mind Casey, but I never really got into his character either… I guess I've always felt rather indifferent towards the guy. Like I alluded to with Komnenid and GuestZ, Don is definitely a whole other can of worms. Sadly, although I find the idea of him feeding April a love potion hilarious, methinks it will not occur in this particular fic. All I'll say for now is that my Don is a little more on the passive aggressive side.**


	9. Chapter 9: Killing with Kindness

**A/N As always I do not own TMNT, but I am forever grateful for their existence!**

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Love or Blood

Chapter 9: Killing with Kindness

The procedure had been methodical:

1\. Prepare clean slide and cover slip

2\. Combine one drop of mutated tissue with one drop of retro-mutagen

3\. Wait sixty seconds

4\. Place coverslip on slide

5\. Place slide on microscope stage

6\. Examine cells accordingly

7\. Record observations

8\. Repeat

Donatello had performed these steps countless times in his attempt to procure a new batch of retro-mutagen that would be more effective than his original design. He needed a cure that could operate on a much larger scale with fewer base materials if he had any hope of undoing the damage done in New York by the Kraang. Months had passed since they fled the city and the turtle did not relish the thought of how many mutations would need to be reversed upon their return. Currently retro-mutagen was the only answer, and Donatello was the only one who could synthesize it.

Yet, here he was still staring at the same field of view a good hour after placing the slide on the stage. The cells had long since autolyzed and no longer held any useful information, but Donatello continued to let the microscope's bright light bathe his vision.

Donatello's brain had short-circuited.

Despite the repetitive and systematic nature of his work, his cerebrum could not seem to divert its focus from earlier events. When Raphael had informed Donatello of his novel feelings towards April, the younger turtle's sympathetic system had responded admirably. Between his pre-ganglionic receptors' release of the acetylcholine necessary to activate the post-ganglionic release of norepinephrine, and his chromaffin cells' release of both norepinephrine and epinephrine directly into his blood stream, Donatello had more than an effective initiation of his fight-or-flight response. This was good because at that moment, despite Raphael's intimidating size, Donatello wanted nothing more than to kick his brother's shell back to New York City.

Unfortunately, even with the added blood flow to his limbs, the tallest turtle was still no match to his older sibling.

The purple-clad turtle knew he had been considerably negligent in his training since their arrival in North Hampton. Even though Donatello was still in impressive shape, when compared to ninety percent of the population, he was the equivalent of a tub of lard when compared to the turtle before him.

Since the invasion, Raphael had feverously turned to exercise as his outlet. When this volatile brother wasn't watching over Leonardo, he was burning off steam. Raphael not only religiously practiced his ninjutsu every day, but he lifted weights, did cardio, and eagerly sought any other activity that would enhance his skill and strength. His anger could be terrifying when uncontrolled, but when Raphael managed to harness it, the sai-wielding reptile became a veritable force of nature.

As a result, when Donatello sought the best place to start beating his brother into submission he could not help but notice what months of vigorous and unyielding exercise can do to a body. It was around then that he also became aware how fast one's flight response could exponentially escalate while leaving its fighting counterpart in the dust.

The physical evidence before him caused Donatello to follow the most logical and self-preserving strategy. He opted to peacefully diffuse the situation and thankfully, by some miraculous phenomenon, Raphael for once had backed down from a brawl.

By this point, all Donatello wanted was to seek solitude long enough to bring some sense to his current conundrum, but Michelangelo blithely managed to derail that plan. Admittedly, the youngest brother probably did not deserve the harsh words that were bestowed on him; however Donatello, despite his best efforts, had lost his classic logic-derived demeanor. His hurt, his anger, and his embarrassment at not being able to fight for his woman had left him disjointed and flustered. These emotions needed collateral and Michelangelo was the rational choice.

After leaving his cruel mark, forged by his unfulfilled emotional needs, the elder had stalked off to his workshop leaving Michelangelo to his own devices. Originally, Donatello had intended to thoroughly analyze the repercussions of this new development, but once he was alone, the mutant turtle found he would much rather get some work done than address his emotional turmoil.

If only his heart shared the same desire.

Finally, when his eyes could take no more of the microscope's blinding light, Donatello admitted he needed to review the series of events that kept plucking his neurons away from the task at hand.

Donatello had never been one to favour his emotions. He preferred to think of the world in black and white. Either something was or it wasn't. If it was right, it was right, and if it was wrong, it was wrong. Emotions evidently did not follow this preferred scheme and so historically, if given the option, Donatello preferred to not acknowledge them. This unspoken mantra particularly applied to the ones that wove themselves into the unseen regions of his heart.

That was, until April entered his life.

With only one solitary look from those sapphire irises, April had managed to irrevocably disrupt Donatello's natural order. Before meeting April, Donatello prided himself on his control over his emotions. He believed he and Leonardo were one in the same in that respect. Unlike Raphael and Michelangelo, these two brothers knew how to feel, but managed to detach themselves from such trivial distractions. Donatello's feelings for April had never submitted to such restrictions and although vexing, a large part of the purple-clad turtle relished the change. He began to believe that as long as he could prevent himself from developing some of Raphael and Michelangelo's more psychotic tendencies, a little bit of emotion could perhaps even be beneficial to his overall development. At that optimistic thought, Donatello began to understand what had perspired earlier.

Raphael did not know how to control his emotions. When it came to his older brother, Donatello fully believed Raphael acted purely on impulse; he acted now and thought later. His tumultuous feelings had to be addressed the moment they arose, which unfortunately entailed him often acting on ridiculous impulses. Raphael's earlier confession was evidence. Those unbridled emotions had forced Donatello's brother to act in such an unsophisticated manner, and sadly, even though Raphael claimed April felt strongly towards him, Donatello strongly suspected that once again his sibling was being led astray by his errant emotions.

Donatello's epiphany left him simultaneously enlightened and relieved. Of course he did feel a little sorry for Raphael. He loved his brother and didn't want to see him get hurt, but April obviously only had feelings for Donatello. April had kissed him – on several occasions – and therefore she had to like him. The purple-clad turtle found himself sighing thoughtfully into the silence, "_If only Raphael could think in black and white terms, he would avoid so much pain._"

Nonetheless, Donatello loved his brother and would be there for him during this trying time. Undoubtedly, his reaction in the woods had probably left the elder unnerved; it was Donatello's responsibility to go and tend to his brother. Then after comforting and assuring Raphael that it was normal to have these feelings, Donatello had no doubt that his brother would concede to the sheer absurdity of the entire situation. Naturally Raphael's pride would be slightly deflated, but with any luck, the two brothers would slip back into their usual routine by dinnertime.

The purple-clad turtle stood up and brushed his hands together pleased he had found sense in the situation so quickly. He stretched his back and proceeded to leave the barn in search of his brother. Donatello knew Raphael often escaped to the lake when he needed some solitude – Donatello himself favoured the spot – so he decided to try seeking his brother there first. Approximately half-an-hour later, the turtle found himself nearing the aquatic body, but before he saw anyone he heard familiar voices. It only took him a fraction of a second to identify the owners. Donatello froze at the cold sensation inching through his thoracic vertebrae.

April and Raphael were alone together.

He was too far away to make out the flow of the conversation clearly, but he didn't dare move closer and risk Raphael becoming aware of his presence. That small desperately hopeful part of Donatello wanted to believe that his apprehension arose from the worry of witnessing Raphael's mortification at April's imminent rejection, but the jagged pricks of ice spreading through his costovertebral joints hinted otherwise.

He needed to know the truth.

The hidden turtle crept away implementing every stealth technique he knew. He then slipped through the foliage to position himself at a concealed outcropping that provided a reasonable view of the pair on the beach. He could still not hear the conversation clearly, but at least from his covered location he could watch their body language. After only a few minutes of observation, Donatello felt his stomach convert into a geyser of bile leaving both esophagus and mouth raw.

His fists clenched when April lay her bare leg across Raphael's lap. His teeth ground when Raphael cradled April in his arms. His vision blurred when their lips met. His heart screamed at how wrong he had been.

April had feelings for another, and it wasn't Casey Jones. It was Raphael. His own brother had betrayed him.

Donatello abandoned much of his stealth as he fled the lake shore. He felt the couple was well enough distracted to not notice the slight rustling in the underbrush. For the second time that day Donatello found himself moving through a daze. He could barely walk straight, so desperate was he to block those wretched thoughts. Yet their stroking fingers, sparkling eyes, and dancing tongues invaded every orifice of his mind. He was helpless to repel the evidence of their love.

A love that Raphael had stolen from him.

If the mutant turtle had been himself, he would awed at the miracle of him once again returning to the barn despite his phantasmagoric state. His world was spinning and his senses were overloading. He felt as if his world was crumbling around him. How could he have been so wrong?

Donatello would be the first to admit that he was not the strongest as far as emotional intelligence was concerned. He was not the best at reading people and he was all too aware of his inherent awkwardness. Yet, he also knew what his strengths were and when it came to science, Donatello truthfully believed himself unparalleled. He was also a ninja. Years of training had taught the turtle to learn to harness ones strengths while manipulating ones weaknesses. Long ago when he realized he had no idea how to win April's affections, he decided to approach the situation in a way that would cater to his strengths.

Donatello began to develop a theory that would clearly show what was necessary for him and April to be together. Unsurprisingly, he went to what he knew best and began to formulate an equation, but not any ordinary equation. If he could somehow find a way to convert April and his interactions into a mathematical medium he was confident he could earn April's affections.

He started with the most fundamental physics principles, and when Newton's Laws yielded no visibly useful information he turned to other fields and theories. Le Chatelier's Principle was the first in his search to guide him. He soon deduced that whatever he put into their relationship would affect the eventual outcome accordingly and the system would act to counteract changes in order to maintain homeostasis. Donatello knew all systems sought equilibrium and so if he was going to force a reaction to occur in his and April's relationship, he knew he would need the appropriate energy input. With the Laws of Thermodynamics on his side, Donatello believed if he just put in enough energy he could make April return his affections.

It was not unreasonable for Donatello to implement this particular tactic. All his life he had used equations to aid him, and to a large extent they had been beneficial. True, he did not always have tangible values to his equations, but even in more ethereal concepts his approach had proven itself successful. As long as an adequate amount of time was given, Donatello believed any reaction could eventually occur. In Ninjutsu, training harder gradually over time equalled becoming a better ninja. In his studies, working or learning more equalled him becoming more knowledgeable and diverse. In a more basic form, it had even applied to his initial friendship with April. Saving said girl's life equaled her friendship and trust.

So why had he failed to make the equation pertaining to his romantic aspirations balance?

He had accounted for practically every variable he could imagine of ranging from their suicidal missions to rescue her father to simple little romantic gestures. They had even rescued her on more than one occasion!

Then it hit him.

All this time Donatello had been approaching his relationship with April as though it were a closed system. Yes, Casey had provided a small hiccup, but the reaction was strong enough to stay intact even with his interference. However, Donatello had never considered one of his brothers disrupting the system. Raphael had never been accounted for, never planned against, and so without the extra energy necessary to counteract the error his big brother introduced, the inertia of Donatello's equation was ruined. Game Theory itself stated that the rate of success is significantly reduced the more competition increases and more cooperation decreases. It was not April's fault, and Donatello had not been wrong.

Raphael was to blame.

As a scientist, Donatello immediately knew the easiest way to fix this. Any researcher worth their salt does everything in their power to mitigate error. Outside factors have to be monitored. If they risk the outcome of the experiment, they have to be dealt with accordingly. Obviously Raphael's presence had interfered and could no longer be ignored. Raphael had to be eliminated from the system.

Donatello shivered at where his dark calculations had led him. Was this really the only answer? Was any of this really in his control?

The turtle looked guiltily around the barn until his eyes came to rest on a picture of the party not long before the invasion. They were all there: Splinter, Leonardo, Michelangelo, Raphael, April, and Donatello. Casey was angled strangely into the picture so that he could take it while still making it onto the film of Splinter's relic of a camera that had no automatic timer. A small grin laced Donatello's lips when he saw his arm wrapped around April. That grin flopped when he saw how Raphael and April were positioned. The turtle was flabbergasted that he had not noticed such an important detail sooner. Silently he chastised himself for being so enthralled with April that up until now he only cared to look at how he was holding her that he had missed what had apparently been in motion for months. One had to look for it, since the two were standing so close – another thing Donatello frowned at – but there was no mistake. April was clearly holding one of Raphael's fingers and even worse, although his older brother still had his eyes towards the camera, Raphael definitely bore a hint of a blush.

Donatello's previous feelings of guilt instantly evaporated.

His family always had viewed Donatello as fairly patient in that he had a very long fuse before he actually became truly angry. Even then, those outbursts were few and far between and usually between just Donatello and himself. He was one to release his fury in places where only his eyes would bear witness to his rage. However, when he was truly angry, his wrath became more volatile than even Raphael's. Frankly, Donatello found himself beyond angry. He was livid, furious, and irate. He was so angry that for once Donatello was at a loss to appropriately describe the boiling hot beast that was now screaming for release.

Donatello found himself wanting to use his secret stash of mutagen – hidden after the transformation of Mrs. Cluckingsworth into Dr. Cluckingsworth – to turn Raphael into a cockroach-turtle hybrid. The thought of Raphael being perpetually terrified of himself gave the younger turtle a sick sense of pleasure. The jar containing The Creep caught his eye and the turtle contemplated having Raphael live out the remainder of his days as a daisy. He shook his head at the jar wishing he had known of Raphael's betrayal before attempting to reverse the transformation. Then he could have claimed he just didn't have the knowledge to return his brother to his terrapin state. No one would blame him, and Raphael would no longer pose a threat.

Yes, it would be easy enough to dispose of his brother, but the real difficulty would be to do it in a way that would prevent April from hating Donatello. If the purple-clad turtle showed up at breakfast tomorrow to dump a jar of mutagen and a cockroach on Raphael, she probably would not be thrilled with him. There had to be another way.

In his anger and desperation, Donatello even half-heartedly considered challenging his brother to a fight where the winner gained rights to April. Sadly, he knew there was no way he would come out victorious in such a battle. Brute force had never been Donatello's answer and he refused to turn to it now. He needed to be smart about this. He needed to use his strengths. He needed to manipulate Raphael's weaknesses.

He pulled out one of the chewed up wooden drawers in his workbench and brought out a notebook and pen. First he needed to list what he knew and what he had to work with regarding his brother. Then he would use what he could to eliminate this hot-head competitor. Within a fairly short amount of time Donatello had begun to piece together his plan.

Raphael was a lot of things, but the one thing that Donatello knew he could use was his brother's temper. The key was bringing out a storm so strong that it would not just destroy its host, but all links April had ever built with Raphael. Initially, Donatello believed that to be his greatest obstacle since he knew how loyal Raphael could be. He also knew that Raphael put on a bravado, but in reality he felt guilt very strongly. So all Donatello had to do was nourish the tiny seeds of guilt Raphael had made himself the moment he betrayed his younger brother. Donatello would then ensure their growth by watering them with his "love." Raphael's guilt would eventually put so much strain on him that an explosion would have to result. If set-up correctly Donatello could ensure its detonation would fix this entire situation.

Yes, Donatello planned to kill his brother with kindness. It was a brilliant plan in which Donatello was guaranteed to gain the control he lacked in his original design. Not only would he guide Raphael without him ever knowing it, but he would do it so no one would know it was him pulling the strings. Raphael would destroy himself and April would be his.

Donatello shook his head at the insanity of it all. Once he began to set his plan in motion there would be no going back. One seed was all it took and Raphael would do the rest. Did Donatello truly want to win this way?

He rubbed his red eyes in weariness. His anger had abated and left smouldering exhaustion in its place. The turtle decided that before he did anything he needed to get some sleep. He would review his strategy in the morning and see if it really was the route he wanted to pursue. Even at his worst, Donatello was never impulsive and always thought his actions through. This situation would be no different.

As Donatello closed up the barn for the night, he secretly admitted that his conscience was part of the reason for his strategy's delay. Raphael drove him crazy, but he was still Donatello's brother. That love, although fragile and wounded, still meant something to the purple-clad turtle.

He neared the farmhouse and his back was beginning to yearn for the comfort of his mattress when he heard a huge crash. Right before his eyes Donatello saw Casey Jones go flying out of the kitchen on the screen door with a very frightening Raphael not far behind. Donatello frowned at the red-head desperately grasping at the large reptile's arms. "What the shell is going on?"

Casey was the first to acknowledge his arrival, "Don, what do you think of this?"

Donatello did not know what to think. That was why he was asking the question, "Of what?"

Casey was obviously annoyed that Donatello was not so willing to jump onto his train of thought, "Of April and Raphael hooking up! What else?"

Once again his gruesome anger reared its head and Donatello found himself tearing out his conscience with its red-hot claws. He attempted to look at his brother and April and found he could not stand the sight. His eyes shifted in and out of focus as he tried to restrain his rage. As calmly as he could he responded, "And…?"

The downed human gestured towards the offending source, "You cannot tell me you are ok with this?!"

No, Donatello was not ok with it. He was as far from ok as he could get, and that alone provided his fiery beast fuel to continue its scheme. Now was the time to act. Now was the time to start watering the seeds of guilt. Donatello shrugged nonchalantly, "You just need to accept it Casey. I'm going to bed."

He continued his façade by adding a good dose of cheer to his voice as he addressed the other party members, "Goodnight everyone!"

Raphael looked confused, "Uh… Goodnight Don?"

Donatello was pleased with Raphael's response and did not hesitate to plaster a grin onto his face. He began to resume his initial course to his awaiting bed when Casey once again cried for attention, "Are you serious? I thought you were head over heels for her?"

Now he was irritated. Only Casey Jones' interference would risk Donatello to reveal his true intentions. Donatello had lost control once and that was enough. He admitted it resulted in a horrendous outcome and he accepted that he should have anticipated Raphael's actions. It was a mistake that he would acknowledge if only to ensure it did not happen again, "It wasn't in my control."

He did not wait for anyone's response. He had owned up to his mistake and the others could interpret it as they willed. Donatello was not concerned that such a response would clue in Raphael to his younger brother's feelings. Raphael did not possess such powers of deduction.

Finally Donatello found himself stretched out comfortably on his mattress. His rage was quelled for now, but come morning he would need to apply himself fully if he were to shift the balance. Yet, he was not daunted. Even if by some crazy phenomenon Raphael clued in to what his brother was doing, once the guilt took hold it could not be stopped. Raphael's own self-destructive nature would see to that.

Donatello chuckled to himself in the darkness before drifting to off into his dreams where April was in his arms.

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**A/N I know Donatello comes across as a bit of a vindictive and pompous twat, but really he is totally the guy who would be uber passive aggressive. I just hope he didn't come across as a total crazed fruit loop. Keep in mind he is in a lot of emotional pain, which he has never been good at handling (using equations for his manual on how to interact with others may be part of that problem) so that leads him to go off the deep end a just a wee bit.**

**Thank-you all so much for reading and reviewing! I can't believe how many hits this has gotten and the jump in followers I've been getting as a result. I can't explain how blown away I am that people enjoy my writing this much. It's been a great ride so far so hopefully I will continue to impress!**

**Terri: I know it's about time right?! I can't say I've been super inspired yet by the new episodes, but I'm patient. In the meantime I'll rewatch some of my fav oldies! Also, I'm getting back to Raphril awesomeness in the next chapter so stay tooned! **

**Komnenid: Thanks! I PM'ed you so we can discuss things there! =)**


	10. Chapter 10: Hook, Line, and Sinker

**A/N I do not own TMNT, but am forever grateful for their existence**

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Love or Blood

Chapter 10: Hook, Line, and Sinker

Warmth slowly tugged at his subconscious. The sun's gentle smile left his scales glistening and his shell glowing. By the time Raphael fully emerged from his dreams, the morning sky had already fully submitted to the afternoon zenith. His room had become an absolute sauna, and he loved it.

Without a doubt, if there was one benefit from relocating from urban metropolis to this nomad's land it was that Raphael could now freely bask in all the sun's glory. Waking up to a boiling bedroom filled with steaming spring sunlight was particularly wonderful. Summer's heat would be divine.

Normally Raphael would only remain in his bed for a short time after nestling into the best comforts of that warmth. There were chores to do, training to complete, and brothers to beat, but today the mutant turtle allowed himself a brief respite. It had been late by the time Raphael and Casey had repaired the kitchen door, and it had been really late by the time Raphael found Michelangelo in the woods. By time he and the youngest finally saw their beds, it was beyond late, for dawn was fast approaching.

Not sleeping for almost forty-eight hours had taken its toll on Raphael. The instant his plastron had embraced his faded sheets, he was well on his way to dreamland; based on the snoring nearby, Michelangelo was already there.

Raphael raised a fist to brush the remaining dust from the sandman's visit before cracking open his eyes. The green irises swallowed their black charges and his vision blurred as he stretched out across the mattress. Raphael unceremoniously dragged his body into a sitting position and upon cracking his neck noted Michelangelo was still comatose in the cot beside him. The younger turtle was hanging precariously off the bed while drooling into his pillow. The only thing anchoring him to the cot was the net of sheets ensnaring his torso. For a moment Raphael seriously contemplated lifting the mattress so that the sheets could be released thereby dumping his brother to the ground, but after yesterday's events, the elder reconsidered. Instead he somewhat gently rolled his baby brother back to safety. Michelangelo gurgled, "Whazzat Hnk?"

A subtle grin graced dark green complexion, "Wake up Mikey."

"Uhhhhhggggg. G'way." The drowsy turtle then promptly rolled over to curl up around his pillow. If the heat of the room hadn't put Raphael into such a good mood, Michelangelo would have definitely met his floor-ridden demise. The red-clad turtle shrugged heading towards the doorway, "Fine then. More bacon for me."

Raphael envied the speed Michelangelo could muster when given the right motivation. He hadn't even fully opened the door before a shot of orange and green rocketed past him and hurtled down the worn and creaky stairs. At a far more relaxed pace, the larger mutant lumbered after his sibling to the kitchen. His arrival was greeted by Michelangelo's cries, "Raph it's already past noon! There is no breakfast bacon! Why didn't you wake me sooner?"

Green eyes ignored the bouncing orange blob to seek out orange juice in the refrigerator. As sweet nectar hit glass he responded, "I woke up the same time you did shell-for-brains."

The resulted piercing whines were not pleasant, "But Raaaaaaph the bacon!"

Raphael snapped, "If you want it so bad then make some."

Blue eyes widened, "But bacon's for breakfast!"

The now aggravated turtle pulled open the fridge to whip a package of fatty goodness at the source of his irritation, "There's no law saying that."

Michelangelo grasped his precious pork and stared at it in disbelief, "You mean I can make it anytime I want?"

"Yes Mikey," Raphael growled as he poured his Cheerios, "you can make it in the middle of the night for all I care."

Squeals of delight now penetrated the elder's ears at this new found revelation, "Dude! Do you know what this means?! Bacon for breakfast! Bacon for lunch! Bacon for dinner! Bacon for Mikey's Midnight Monday Madness!"

Raphael groaned as he slumped into a chair. He didn't care if it was almost one, it was still too early for this. He should have left Michelangelo to the sheets. "You do that and you'll clog your arteries."

The two brothers glanced to the newly repaired sliding door to see the arrival of April followed closely by Casey and Donatello. Raphael felt his heart rate increase and found himself grinding his cereal with a little more ferocity than was strictly necessary. Thankfully, Michelangelo was on his game, "April, April, April. Don't you see? It's a noble sacrifice bra. If my arteries die, they will die with bacon-filled honour!"

April retorted, "More like fat-filled horror."

Casey flung himself into the chair beside Raphael, "Hey it sounds like the perfect way to go Red."

"Alright Case-Man," Michelangelo cheered, "Just for that you can have the first piece!"

The slouching teen smiled smugly at this remark as April pulled up a chair next to Raphael. A wave of warmth spread through the turtle's leg when her knee stealthily rubbed his thigh. Green eyes glanced in her direction, but April proudly bore her poker face. Her only tell was the slight crinkling at the edge of her eyes. Donatello's voice from the bread counter then caught his attention, "Anyone else want toast with their bacon?"

Casey, April, and the bacon-tender raised their hands. Michelangelo then piped up, "What April? I thought you didn't want to clog your precious arteries?"

April rolled her eyes, "Only if I eat it at every meal Mikey! A couple pieces won't kill me."

Michelangelo shrugged before happily returning to his post. Donatello pulled bread from the bag, "Okay so that's eight pieces so far," He then turned his full attention onto Raphael, "What about you Raph?"

The sitting turtle could not help but tense. He had been expecting Donatello to flat-out ignore him or at the very least shoot dirty looks in his direction at every opportunity. He had thought his younger brother would be pissed, but instead he was making him toast while being downright peppy, "Uh… Yeah sure. Thanks Donnie."

Donatello smiled at him, "No problemo. Butter good for everyone?"

Murmurs of consent came from all corners of the room. Raphael just gaped stupidly at his brown-eyed brother before glancing again at April who although still had her knee in place, was still valiantly wearing her mask. The sai-wielding turtle made a mental note to talk to her about it later. In the meantime he tried to steer the conversation to safer waters, "So what were you up to?"

April smiled at him, "I worked in the garden some more. It's really starting to come along. Almost all the major beds are planted now. I made a lot of progress with Donnie and Casey helping me out."

Casey nodded, "Yeah Don and I ripped those weeds a new one."

Donatello quipped, "What Casey means to say is he landed flat on his butt after losing to a dandelion."

"Hey man," Casey glared, "You saw the size of that root!"

Raphael and Michelangelo exchanged smirks, "You lost to a flower?"

Casey frowned, "It was a dandelion Raph! And at least I didn't get turned into one!"

The red-clad turtle snapped, "I didn't get turned into a flower because I couldn't pull out a weed bone head."

"Enough you two!" April placed her hand on Raphael's plastron. The largest turtle's attention immediately shifted to the tiny fingers and sunk back into his chair before taking a swig of orange juice. Casey simultaneously deflated, a forlorn look on his face aimed at the couple's direction, while Donatello and Michelangelo decided now was the time to deliver the goods. The bacon was passed around and Donatello spoke while handing out the plates of toast, "So you guys official then?"

Raphael choked on his orange juice.

Donatello was perched calmly in his chair looking entirely innocent of any malicious intent. Michelangelo and Casey both looked nervous and April was left pounding on the back of Raphael's shell. After his carapace had been sufficiently whacked Raphael managed to inhale enough air to gasp, "What?"

The purple-clad turtle seated across from him casually cut his bacon into tiny pieces. The sincerity of his smile made Raphael shiver, "I'm just curious if you two," he waved his knife at April and Raphael, "have made it official or are just seeing each other."

Raphael could not help but snarl, "Why does it matter to you?"

His brother didn't even flinch. Meanwhile Michelangelo's eyes were shifting uneasily back and forth as April relocated her hand from Raphael's chest to his hand. Donatello continued nonchalantly, "No reason to get mad Raph. It's an important event when any couple takes the next step. That's why traditionally, there is a celebration on the anniversary symbolizing the devotion the two have for one another."

April attempted to speak, but Raphael cut her off, "What? You want an invitation?"

Donatello shrugged as he swallowed a bite of his toast, "I just don't want my dear big brother messing up his big day by forgetting the date."

"So you're my calendar now?"

Piercing brown eyes dove into green, "There's no reason for such hostility Raphael."

He hissed, "Like hell there is! You're still pissed at me, aren't you?"

The turtle opposite raised an eye ridge, "I told you I was fine with it. You're the one who's getting worked up for no reason. Why do you not believe me?"

Raphael's mouth froze into a frown. Donatello was right: he had given his older brother no reason not to trust him. From the moment the brown-eyed reptile had entered the kitchen, he had been nothing but his normal self. Even last night Donatello had Raphael's back after pounding Casey! Yet, despite the evidence before him, Raphael still felt as if something was off, but then again, Raphael did have a history of paranoia. Maybe Donatello had truly forgiven him and it was now Raphael himself who was threatening their familial bond.

The larger turtle sighed then rose, abandoning his food, "You're right Don."

Donatello's eyes followed his progress has he headed to the door, "Raph you don't have to go."

He waved him off, "I need some air."

Raphael did not wait for a response. As soon as he was out the door he was bolting off into the woods. He had to get out of there. It was stifling. Yet as he ran under the leafy canopy the turtle became more and more aware that no matter where he ran his guilt would continue to slowly smother him.

Eventually he found himself at one of the larger streams that flowed into the lake. He paced up and down the bank for several minutes before he heard approaching footsteps. Instinctively he took cover, but relaxed when he saw April emerge from the bushes. She paused before him and placed a hand on her hip, "What was that all about?"

He clenched his fists and looked away. When he didn't respond April continued, "You don't have to do this Raph."

His eyes shot up to hers in fear, "April…"

She reached out and grabbed one of his fingers and after a moment he released it from his fist. April squeezed it gently. It was like a butterfly's kiss, "You don't have to run away, you don't have to feel guilty, and you don't need to make Don happy. Each one of us is in charge of our own happiness Raph, but we have no control over anyone else's. We can only control our own, and only you can make that decision. Not Don, not me, not anyone. You."

Raphael wrapped his massive hand around hers, "You make me happy April."

She shook her head, "No I don't. You decide to let me make you happy. It works the same way with Don. If you let him make you unhappy then you will be unhappy."

He shook his head, "But the guilt is driving me crazy."

"Then you need to find a way to come to terms with it."

He sighed, "Yeah but-"

April stood up tall and met his eyes, "No more buts! It's up to you Raph!"

Her agitation fuelled his, "That's easy for you to say! He's my brother April!"

Her red-hair seemed to brighten, "You're not the only one that cares about him Raphael!"

Green eyes met blue and warred for dominance. Finally Raphael relinquished and mumbled in a quiet voice, "You think he's still mad?"

He felt her squeeze his finger again, "To be honest, I don't know. If he is, he's not showing it. He worked with me all morning in the garden and seemed perfectly fine. Like nothing ever happened."

Raphael ran a hand over his face, "I didn't think he'd get over it so fast."

April shrugged, "Well it's not like he was really making any progress with me. Maybe he was able to get over it because he had already come to that realization a while ago."

The turtle was doubtful, but he didn't want to puncture the delicate hope in her eyes. Instead he noticed the two long poles in her other hand, "What're those?"

A little grin filled her sweet lips, "Some old fishing rods from when I was a kid. I've been meaning to try fishing again for a while now. When I saw what direction you headed, I knew you'd eventually reach the creek. So I figured now was my chance. You ever fished before?"

Raphael wrinkled his nose, "Trust me, any fish you could catch in the sewers you don't want to eat, and this is from a guy who eats worms."

April's cheeks turned green for a moment, "Ew."

He smirked, "Hey no getting sick on me now." He pulled one of the rods from her hand, "So how's this thing work?"

The smile returned and she pulled on his hand guiding him to the stream, "Well first we need to find a good spot."

Raphael followed behind her as she scanned the bank. After moving upstream for about ten minutes she paused. Here, the creek curved so that a large pool had been formed apart from the main current. The water was dark and the partially sunken rotting tree proved it to be deep. April pointed at it, "Bet we catch something in there."

A sly grin appeared on his face, "Yeah? What are we betting?"

April had a surreptitious smile of her own, "I don't know. What do you want?"

He raised an eye ridge and cast his eyes over her figure. Raphael loved the soft blush that bloomed on her cheeks, "Swimming."

She tilted her head in question, "Swimming? That's it?"

A smug smirk appeared on his face, "If there's no fish you go swimming."

April apparently was ready to play his game, "And if there is, we both go swimming."

Raphael nodded in approval, "Deal. Now let's make it interesting."

"Oh?"

"If I catch the most fish," a mischievous sparkle flickered in his emerald eyes, "You go swimming with me turtle style."

April folded her arms, "Turtle style?"

He chuckled at the nervous grin on her face, "Yep. Turtle style."

"What's turtle style?"

"I'll give you a hint," he gestured at himself, "What am I wearing?"

"You're not…" Her cheeks were red hot now, "RAPHAEL!"

He laughed at her, "That's the deal. I catch the most fish you go swimming with me turtle style."

She frowned, "You mean naked."

"No not naked. You get a mask, knee and elbow pads, plus a belt."

April rolled her eyes, "Like that will make a difference."

He continued to sport his impish smile, "Oh it makes all the difference. So you game?"

The red-head appeared thoughtful for a moment, "Alright it's a deal, on three conditions: first I get to wear your gear. There's no way I'm putting Mikey's stuff on, God knows the last time he washed it."

Raphael nodded, "You don't want to know. What else?"

"When we swim, we do it in private and you need to maintain some ninja alertness. I don't want anyone seeing us."

He had no trouble accepting that request. There was no way he would allow for any of the others to play peeping tom. "That's no problem for me. Ok my stuff, private show, and…?"

Now it was April's turn to smile, "If I win, you go swimming with me and you have to swim April style."

"What the hell is April style?"

He had never before seen such an evil grin – well except when Michelangelo was in full Dr. Prankenstein mode, "What do I wear when I go swimming?"

Raphael flung his arms up and waved them back and forth, "NoNoNoNoNo! Like Hell I will!"

April shrugged her shoulders and turned away briefly before glancing over her shoulder flirtatiously, "Well then if that's the case, you won't get your chance to see me swim turtle style."

There was no doubt in Raphael's mind that she was moving her body that way on purpose, and now that he had his chance he had to take it, "Alright fine, but same rules as yours. It has to be your swimsuit and we're doing it in private."

"Fine with me tough guy." She reached out her hand, "We have a deal?"

Raphael smiled and did not hesitate to shake hers, "Deal. May the best turtle win."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm not a turtle genius."

He smirked, "My point exactly."

April sunk down on her knees and began to prep her rod, "Big words for the turtle who has never used a fishing pole."

He grinned, "Who says I have to use a rod?"

She looked up at him in disbelief, "Only a guy who's never been fishing would say that."

Raphael only continued to gloat in the brilliance of his scheme, "Who says I haven't?"

The girl before him snorted as she procured a small container of bait from her jacket, "Uh you did remember?"

"No I didn't. I said you wouldn't want to eat any fish caught in the sewers."

She was now frowning slightly, "Right. So you never bothered to catch them."

"How do you think we figured out not to eat them?"

There was a definite tone of worry in her voice, "Splinter… Told you?"

Raphael was too pleased with his trick to let her mentioning of his father deter him, "Oh he did, but four hyper kid turtles stuck in sewers all day every day still need some action. Ever hear of catch and release?"

"Wait. So you planned this from the beginning?"

"Yep."

"And knew I'd fall for your bet."

"Yep."

"A bet you knew you would win."

"Yep."

April froze her hand over the bait container as the dawning horror of her mistake fully hit her, "You have got to be kidding…"

He laughed, "Nope. You shook on it. I got you hook, line, and sinker O'Neil."

"…"

Raphael easily ducked under the flying tin of worms before casually striding over to the edge of the pool, as she yelled at him, "YOU JERK!"

He then cockily saluted, "That I am." He winked, "Better get that birthday suit ready."

He then plunged into the cold water before she could smack him with her rod.

* * *

**A/N So originally this chapter and the next were supposed to be one, but I've decided to split it up. I just think it flows better this way.**

**majishan: I agree, he totally has his moments and thanks =)**

**Terri: Thank-you! I just can't see smart logical Donnie just fully flying off the handle. To me he is definitely the type who would burn serious midnight oil trying to figure out where he went wrong in any problem he faces. So why wouldn't it be the same here? Also, that is probably one of my biggest pet peeves in the series. I know it's a kids' show and I know there is about a million socio-cultural-etc reasons as to why her feelings appear to be constantly brushed aside (if mentioned at all), but it seriously irks me sometimes. **

**Komnenid: Haha! Don't worry it's more fun on the Dark Side! Donatello was never my favourite turtle (if it wasn't obvious that would be Raphael), but I have to admit I think a lot like him as well sometimes. Also we both have a deep love of science so how can I not love that 3 **

**mommason: Thank-you! I'm glad he came out that way, but not in an overwhelming sense. I really tried to make the theories as simple as possible while still somehow twisting them into the story's context. I have to say that's not something one usually does in their physics class XD**


	11. Chapter 11: Turtle Style

**A/N I still do not own TMNT but I am still eternally thankful for their existence.**

**Warning ahead for more mature content. There are no explicit descriptions since I did want to keep it T, but you all know what skinny dipping entails. **

**Also, just for the record anything April and Raphael do in this fic is consensual. That said, there will be no sex penetrative or otherwise in this fic. Nakedness and making out yes. Sex no. At some point I may write a fic where they're older and that occurs, but it will not happen here. Also FYI in my 'verse the turtles' sex organs are like normal turtles so they are up in their tails and not normally visible. **

* * *

Love or Blood

Chapter 11: Turtle Style

April O'Neil was less than impressed. Not only was she about to go swimming in cold lake water, but she was about to do it as a result of her losing a bet. A loss that had made the mutant turtle accompanying her more than pleased with himself. It would be weeks before April would be able to get Raphael to come down a few pegs after his latest "victory."

After said arrogant reptile had submerged into the dark creek water, April had quickly sought face. If she was going down, at least she would go down fighting. Admittedly, a desperate part of her wanted to believe that Raphael had no substance to his gloating. When he surfaced five minutes later – before her line had even touched the water – smugly bearing four large trout, she knew she was a goner. A few more dives and eight fish later, April was forced to glumly follow a laughing Raphael back to the house to deliver his catch.

Michelangelo was ecstatic with the dozen fat trout and promised he would apply all his culinary expertise to their preparation. April had almost smacked Raphael when he told Michelangelo he had one more to catch before dinner. Thankfully the younger turtle either did not grasp or ignored the innuendo behind that particular comment.

So now here they were, almost a good hour's walk later, on the far side of the lake examining the small inlet that Raphael had chosen to collect his bet. April was tremendously thankful the afternoon had been uncharacteristically warm for late spring. The water would still be cool, but at least it would be bearable. Twilight was not far off and the sinking sun bathed the water in pinks and oranges. Long reeds largely separated the cove from the lake's main body and smooth fresh grass ran near where the soft waves danced on the shore. Any rocks were sporadic and smooth, nothing like the rough beach her and Raphael had shared only yesterday. April could not have found a better spot if she tried, which led her to raise a questioning eyebrow at the turtle's direction, "You've been here before haven't you?"

He folded his arms and looked over the serene surface, "Maybe."

She threw in an accusatory frown, "All part of your ploy?"

Raphael's eyes glimmered sparks of amber in the sinking sunlight, "Maybe."

"Hmph," April rolled her eyes, "Jerk."

He laughed, "Always so surprised."

She giggled with him and soon found shivers of warmth blossoming at the roots of her hair as he gently smiled at her. Any smart remark April had been devising faded away with the dying light. Instead she was lost in a wash of sudden nervousness.

April O'Neil had never been naked in front of anyone – girls' locker rooms and baby April did not count. Now she was standing before someone she cared very deeply for about to reveal herself to him. Would Raphael even be happy with what he saw? April was suddenly wishing she had chosen better underwear when she got dressed this morning. Not only did her yellow bra not match her panties, but her blue panties were old, holey and thoroughly bespeckled with tiny cows. She was positive Raphael had to have seen the Victoria Secret ads at some point during his lifetime and she was most definitely a far cry from that. Then again, he was a mutant turtle.

She rubbed her arm nervously. Raphael would know what to expect right? He had to have looked at some porno at some point right? Besides, there was no way when she and Michelangelo watched Titanic a few months ago that the largest turtle was so fully absorbed in his Motorcycles Illustrated that he flat out missed that one nude scene – April was silently cursing being so lost in her fan-girling that she had not paid better attention to this oh so important detail.

Still, even if he didn't know exactly what to expect, he still would find her pretty… Wouldn't he? Even though she wasn't a mutant turtle, he still was attracted to her… Right?

Evidently her awkwardness was contagious, for despite all his earlier bravado, Raphael was shifting from foot to foot in agitation. He cleared his throat, "So uh… How are we doing this?"

Her voice was a little higher than she would have liked, "Well first you need to give me your stuff."

"Oh right."

Raphael rubbed the back of his head nervously, and a whole new thought struck April. She had never seen Raphael naked before either. Admittedly, the turtles didn't exactly wear much, but April had only ever seen Raphael without his mask once, and he had been unconscious. Although she hadn't mentioned anything, when she tied that red mask back onto his face, she had somehow felt more intimate with him than she had ever felt with anyone. That mask really was a part of him, and that was only one strip of cloth. April's heart beat a little faster just thinking about him without the pads and belt. A coy part of her wondered if she could convince him to take off his wrappings too.

"April…?"

Raphael's voice jolted her out of her thoughts and she quickly refocused her attention on his expectant features. "Sorry… What?"

His face bore a bit of a scowl as he repeated himself, "Do you wanted some privacy to change?"

April blushed scarlet, "I didn't realize that was an option."

His frown deepened and after a moment he crossed his arms, "Are you sure you're ok with this?"

Her nervous thoughts slammed to a halt, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't want to force you."

She waved her hands in exasperation, "Then what was the deal with all of this? With this entire bet? I thought you wanted this!?"

Raphael was frowning deeply now, "Well you seemed ok with it until a minute ago."

April didn't know how the situation began to turn so quickly and began to panic, "Oh so now that I'm not jumping to strip you decide that it's time to back out?"

"All you had to do was say no."

"But you bet me! We shook on it!"

He huffed, "It was a joke. Look, let's just go."

His words felt like a whip. He really didn't want to see her, "A joke? Am I that appalling?"

Raphael's eyes bulged, "What? No! Why would you think that?"

Her eyes watered, "You're the one who wants to go home!"

He snapped, "Because you don't want to do this!"

"Did I ever say that?"

There was silence for a moment while they both shared expressions of disbelief. Then April murmured, "Wait, are _you_ not ok with this?"

He pinched his eyes closed, "Yes. No. I don't know! April how can you be ok with this? I'm a turtle for fuck's sake!"

She gaped, "Wait, let me get this straight: _we_ both want to do this, but at the same time _you_ don't want to do this because you're a turtle?"

He looked down in only what April could interpret as shame. Her heart clenched when she noticed his eyes were brighter than normal. She had to fix this, "Take off your stuff."

He glanced up but didn't meet her eyes, "April…"

April threw ice into her tone, "Take it off," when he still hesitated, "Now Raphael!"

Raphael slowly reached to untie his mask and April stalked off behind some bushes, "Wait here."

"April…"

She sighed, "Just wait here and tell me when you're done."

There under the cover of her leafy comrades April quickly pulled off her clothing and undergarments. Just as she undid her ponytail to let her hair tumble down on her shoulders Raphael quietly called, "Do you want me to toss it over there?"

"No. Just turn around and face the lake."

A second later, "K."

April took a breath then smoothly stood and walked as quietly as she could from her hiding place. A tiny smile touched her lips as she briefly examined his shining carapace in the twilight, but she did not let her eyes linger long. Instead she moved around the neatly folded pile of his gear and tapped him on the shoulder, "Turn around."

She heard him inhale softly. The turtle slowly turned and his words fell like leaves, "But you're…"

April nodded and placed a finger over his mouth to silence him, "I chose Our Style."

He carefully removed her hand, "Ours…?"

April placed her hands on his and smiled, "Ours Raphael."

She then stretched up on her tip toes and kissed him gently on beak before sliding back onto her heels. In response to his questioning eyes she wiggled her eyebrows, "You still want to collect your bet?"

His face broke out into a wondrous smile, "Hell yeah."

Before she could blink, he swept her up into his arms bridal style and walked to the lake. April squealed in delight, "Raphael! Put me down!"

He paused mid-stride and looked down at her smirking, "Whatever you say O'Neil."

The short moment of weightlessness ended abruptly as April plunged into icy water. She pushed off from the bottom and emerged with her hair clinging to her shoulders and teeth chattering, "Damn! That's cold!" Turning her attention to the laughing reptile before her, "What was that for?"

Raphael stopped laughing, staring unabashedly. Any playful anger drifted away with the ripples. April found herself reddening as he strode towards her, but it was not his gaze that made her blush. Shimmering beads of water gathered on his scales, forming millions of miniature prisms fluidly transforming twilight into rainbow radiance. Hard shell and muscle were softened, yet perfected, by the marriage of living light and solid matter. Eyes once green combined with golden rays, procuring irises of neither amber nor emerald but only of purest chartreuse. Before her stood an unmasked Raphael no longer filled with darkness and earth but instead sunlight and fire.

"God you're beautiful."

Raphael blinked several times in confusion at her remark before stretching a hand out to brush away one of her wet tendrils. "No. You're the one who's beautiful April."

His hand paused to cup her cheek and she leaned into it while grasping it with her own. She peered through damp lashes as he stroked his thumb along her jawline, "Raphael right now you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

The turtle looked shyly to the side and then back at her, "You serious?"

April smiled remembering their conversation from the garden, "Raphael, I've never been more serious."

Raphael wrapped his other hand around her waist and pulled her against him. This time when their lips met they did not part and April no longer found the water cold.

* * *

**A/N A good place to leave off methinks. Still plenty of more Raphril moments ahead my friends!**

**And to my lovely reviewers:**

**TheWinterMe: Thank-you! That's one of the reasons why I love Raphril so much because I feel like of all the couples they have the most potential for such comedic yet competitive yet sexy banter. They are definitely not afraid to have some fun!**

**ariesdragon2000: Haha I know! Cliffhangers kill me too, but sometimes they just work so well that I cannot help but put them in ;p **

**majishan: Don't worry that doesn't make you a bad person! I'm glad I'm eliciting a reaction where someone wants Don to fail while feeling guilty about it because that was kinda what I was aiming for.**

**SetoAngel01: OMG. Ok so I may have screamed like a little girl when I saw that you commented… I LOVE YOUR ART! The fact that one of my favourite artists in the fandom has not just noticed me but liked what I'm doing has actually put me over the moon! Like I can't even explain… I'm just ecstatic. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! **

**Terri: Haha yes! The banter these two are capable of just makes me love them even more! Also you'll be excited to hear there is still more Raphril focus for the next bit!**

**Komnenid: Yeah I struggled a bit to decide. A) Because both seemed funny and B) Because I don't want to get to explicit in this fic (thus all my disclosures before this chapter). Who knows though maybe Raph will lose to April yet and still be forced into her swimsuit XD**


	12. Chapter 12: By Firelight and Starlight

**A/N I still do not own TMNT, but continue to be grateful for their creation.**

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Love or Blood

Chapter 12: By Firelight and Starlight

"You think Mikey will forgive us for missing his Mackerel Masterpiece?"

Raphael glanced up from the coals he was tending, "They were brook trout not mackerel, and I'm sure he'll survive."

April continued to weave her damp hair into a braid, "To-may-to. To-maw-to. You know how sensitive he can be."

"It has nothing to do with pronunciation, and don't worry I'm pretty sure he'll content himself with eating our share." He tossed his smouldering makeshift fire poker into the flames, "I think we're ready. Hand me the skewers."

"Whatever. A fish is a fish." The red-head wrapped the elastic around her hair finishing the braid and met the scowling reptile with three fish-filled sticks.

Raphael let his fingers linger for a moment against hers. Once again his heart beat a little faster from the smallest touch, "How can someone so cute be so wrong?" He felt his cheeks warm as he carefully placed the fish amongst the coals. He awkwardly cleared his throat, "Uh… I mean… Are you sure one is going to be enough for you?"

She leaned her side on his and gave him a mischievous look, "What, this cutie can't steal some of yours?"

His cheeks blazed and he desperately tried to regain his bravado, "No way! You had your chance to order more while I was still in the water."

"So if I asked you to catch me another you'd turn me down?"

She batted her best Bambi eyes him and Raphael rolled his own knowing he was defeated. Of course he would go. If she asked, he would get her a hundred more and then some, "Do you want me to?"

He was relieved when she snuggled up against his plastron, "Naw, I like you here better."

Raphael chuckled, "Come here," he wrapped his arms around her squeezing her closer, "you warm enough?"

The delicate skin connecting above his plastron tingled at the breath she released as she sighed in contentment, "Between you and the fire I'm perfect. You?"

The corners of his mouth quirked up at her concern, "I'm good. I'm more worried about you and your wet hair."

"It's a lot better now that my hair is tied back up."

Raphael returned his gaze to the tiny fire while his fingers joined April's in their blind, yet synchronized, ballet with each twirling on stages of either shell or skin. They had stayed in the water until the sun had fully set, but with the increasing darkness the lake began to cool, tempting them to seek dry refuge. Neither had been eager to return to the farmhouse where they would no longer have each other's sole attention. So, once Raphael had ensured April was thoroughly dry and fully clothed, he gathered the necessary flint and tinder and started a cheery little fire. Only then did he return to the lake to practice his hunting skills once more. By the time he had caught and gutted his catch, the coals were ready and April had staved off the worst of the chill by tightly braiding her moisture-darkened locks.

After several minutes of admiring the flames' own fiery dance April spoke, "Did you want to put your mask back on?"

He glanced down at her, "Do you want me to?"

Her eyes brightened occasionally reflecting the brave sparks that had sought a fate different from their fiery origins. Fragile lighthouses in a cobalt abyss, "No. I like being able to see you."

Raphael could not help but nuzzle her gently, "Yeah?"

She gave him a brief yet sweet peck, "Yeah."

He quirked an eye ridge at her, "That's supposed to convince me?"

"It is if you don't want the fish to burn."

His attention whipped to the fire where delicate black tendrils of smoke slithered away from their scaly origins. "Aw shit." He pulled the semi-charred skewers from the coals. Raphael's steady fingers whirled the fish around trying to see the extent of the damage. He determined the least blackened one and tossed it over to the girl crouching beside him, "I think this one is still ok."

She hesitated, "What about you? I don't want you to have to eat those charcoal briquettes."

He shrugged, "I've had worse."

April shook her head, "Here give me one." He swallowed his objection and relinquished his stick when he caught sight of that demanding look in her eye. The red-head placed the burnt and unburnt trout on one of the larger rocks composing the fire pit. An instant later, her tessen was out and in a few quick strokes, she sliced the two fish in half. With one piece from each fish in either hand she presented them to him, "Here. This way we both can enjoy the good and the bad."

Shaking his head he reached out and took her gift, "Thanks April."

Smiling before taking a bite she joked, "I know you have needs."

Around a mouthful of meat he laughed, "That I do."

They both focused on their meal for several minutes. Their stomachs had long since lost satisfaction with lunch and were eager to be filled again. April was still no match for Raphael. By the time she had consumed her burnt portion he had already devoured both skewers. He rubbed his hand over his mouth and froze at her stare, "What?"

She quickly returned to nibbling her fish, "Nothing."

"Don't give me that. What is it?"

"Uh…"

He frowned, "Just spit it out!"

"I was just thinking…" He nodded for her to continue and she sighed in defeat, "That we need to work on your manners."

The turtle gaped at her, "What's wrong with them?"

"You eat like an animal."

He snorted, "She says to the turtle."

She looked mortified, and at her lack of response he laughed, "April do you really think Master Splinter would have let us eat like this around him?"

"…"

He wrapped an arm around her, "Trust me, he was just as much after us at the dinner table as in the dojo. We just chose to ignore that aspect of his training," he continued at her frown, "Only when he wasn't around!"

She returned her gaze to her fish still looking embarrassed, "Sorry… I didn't mean to judge."

His eyes softened, "Hey," he placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head to face him, "look, if it bugs you so much I can bring 'em back." Her eyes shifted to avoid his and he felt an edge of concern sneak into his voice, "April, what's wrong?"

She abandoned her half-eaten fish and hugged herself, "I'm sorry Raph."

The mutant turtle stared blankly at her trying to understand why eating etiquette had left her so undone, "Why? You've got nothing to apologize for."

Finally she met his gaze, which was not as comforting as he had hoped. Instead he was jolted by the tears in her eyes, "Yes I do! You should be pissed right now, not so… So sweet!"

He was torn between elation and confusion. April O'Neil had just called him sweet, but April O'Neil had also just called him sweet while crying, "And I should be pissed because…?"

"Isn't it obvious!?"

His brow creased as he responded flatly, "No."

She cried out, "I just called you an animal!"

He was still confused, "Pretty sure you said I eat "like an animal." There's a bit of a difference."

Again she stared at the ground, "No there isn't! Don't you see? I'm your confidante, friend, and …" their eyes met briefly before hers darted away again, "I'm supposed to be someone you can trust, who you can feel safe with, and here I'm dropping bigoted comments! I mean I did think of you guys as some kind of monsters at first…" she covered her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. Before crying fearfully, "Oh my God… Raphael I am so sorry. I –"

Raphael cut her off by grabbing both of her shoulders firmly, "April stop."

He did not continue immediately, for anger threatened to overwhelm him. April had struck at a pain so deeply ingrained into his subconscious that he fought every day to prevent himself from believing it to be true. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, sometimes reality would suggest differently. As it did now.

The mutant closed his eyes and focused on breathing, hoping to push away his fear. As he struggled to calm himself in the least destructive manner he knew, something penetrated the darkness. Beneath his hands, he could feel a shuddering warmth triggering a forgotten memory and slowly the umbra of his mind began to dissipate.

Raphael's family knew he had a thing for pigeons. His affection extended to all birds, but it was these common balls of grey feathers and pink feet that won his heart. The avian rulers of NYC could be found anywhere, and within a few weeks of finally being allowed to freely roam the surface at night, the turtle had easily developed a repertoire with them. Their alliance did have its tactical advantages, but Raphael did not bond with the pigeons to use them as soldiers. They were his companions and confidantes. His comfort and security. They accepted him and he accepted them. Every one of the countless hours he spent with them was an hour he loved.

He had many memories of those times, but one that he had buried close to his heart came from their first spring night topside. After an uneventful routine patrol, the red-clad reptile parted ways with his brothers. That first warm night since the departure of winter led him to one of his favourite pigeon haunts, and there he had found the nest.

Raphael had never seen a bird's nest before let alone newly-hatched chicks, and so when he first spied those three helpless hatchlings, he was left speechless. Their enormous eyes were closed, their pink skin was wrinkled, and their tiny beaks were proudly declaring their presence.

They were the ugliest things he had ever seen.

With a surprisingly large feeling of disappointment, Raphael was preparing to leave when something caught his eye. In the corner of the nest was a fourth cracked egg, but inside was no fourth baby. The turtle began to scour the area frantically when a soft scared peep met his ears. Underneath a nearby air conditioning unit was the last pigeon chick. Raphael did not hesitate. Automatically, he swept the delicate baby up, but before he returned it to the nest, that runty little jerk-of-a-bird bit him.

Despite the pain and the slow ooze of blood, the turtle admirably managed to not drop kick the chick. As he was cursing as many profanities as was necessary to his current plight, the sack of pink flesh once more demanded his attention. However, it was not pain that lifted the curtain of shadowy anger revealing the penumbra of curiosity.

Raphael found himself staring in amazement at that tiny, terrified, and trembling bundle of warmth. When he looked at the chick in his hands, he no longer felt revulsion or animosity. He gently placed the hatchling in the nest. As Raphael stared at the newly reunited family, he knew they were the most beautiful things he had ever seen. That is until his eyes opened now. The eclipse ended, and Raphael finally understood.

His green eyes did not hesitate to capture and hold the gaze, "April, you could have said I was eating like a pig or like an animal and it would have meant the same thing. I was not insulted because it was the truth. I was eating like an animal," he paused, "but I got news for you, mutant or not, I am a turtle, which means I am an animal."

She began, "Raph I-"

He cut her off again, "Let me finish. When you first saw us you thought we were giant green turtle freaks right?" She nodded heavily but he did not stop. He needed her to share his understanding, "Well I thought you were some damsel in distress who was getting a kick out of messing with my brother's emotions."

Her jaw dropped and Raphael had to steel himself to keep going. "I'm not hiding it. It's the truth. I also thought humans were a royally selfish screwed up lot who had condemned my family to our crummy existence because they couldn't bear the thought of freaks like us blemishing their stupid perfect lives."

He closed his eyes again and took another breath releasing the last of his anger before giving her a penetrating look, "April, do you think I still feel that way?"

Finally Raphael began to see a glimmer of comprehension. She murmured, "No."

The turtle nodded in confirmation, "I still think some humans are bastards, but I now know not all of you are. And you April," He moved his hands down her shoulders and as they slid down the curve of her biceps, she freed her own fingers for him to grasp, "I couldn't have been more wrong about you. So the only question left is," he could not prevent his voice from faltering as he uttered, "do you… Do you still think I'm a monster?"

She fell into his arms and buried her face into his plastron, "God no Raph! The day I met you, I met an angel."

Strong green fingers ran through red hair as the precious bundle in his arms let out her remaining guilt and insecurities through salty tears; the turtle himself felt his vision blur slightly. Their dark catharsis had torn their heart strings, but finally with the poison removed, the healing could at last begin.

Raphael had no doubt in his mind that April felt the same at that moment. The way the tension in her muscles eased with each crying spasm proved how long she too had let this gnawing guilt fester. He angered at the thought of her bearing such pain for so long on her own, but his brief rage was tempered knowing together they had earned their freedom through each other's forgiveness.

Eventually when his chest was no longer acting as her personal riverbed, Raphael glanced down to see a sniffling puffy-eyed April emerging from her refuge, "Feel better?"

She gave him a small watery smile, "Yeah… Um… Sorry about that."

He shrugged, "It's no big deal."

"No?"

The turtle swallowed, "Hey if anyone has issues with feelings and shit it's me. So uh… If you need to talk just talk."

The scales on his cheek ignited at her kiss, "Thanks Raph."

He grinned sheepishly and then nodded over to her forgotten fish, "You gonna eat that?"

April quirked her lips and reached over and grabbed the stick, "It's all yours."

He took it from her eagerly and chewed at the cold flesh – making a particular effort to be polite – while April crouched looking at the fire thoughtfully, "I should have brought marshmallows."

The turtle swallowed before responding, "Why?"

She looked at him in disbelief, "Have you never roasted marshmallows over a fire?"

He shook his head before returning to his fish, "No."

"So you've never had smores?"

He quirked an eye ridge, "What the hell's a smore?"

Evidently the red-head had recovered all but physically – her eyes would remain red for a while yet – from her earlier sorrows, "It's like the camping rite of passage!"

He tossed the cleaned bones and stick into the flames, "Because I did so much of that as a kid."

"You can make them at home too! All you need are graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows."

Raphael leaned back using his arms as a headrest. It wasn't the best position considering his shell, but the stretch did help to relieve some of the tension in his now full stomach, "Doesn't sound bad. So you roast the marshmallows and mix?"

April nestled up beside him, "Yep and the heat from the marshmallow melts the chocolate into gooey goodness."

"Next fire we'll make 'em then. Here," he lifted his head to pull out the arm beside her. April automatically lifted herself so that her ear rested on his bicep while her tummy pressed flat against his side as he cradled her. She contentedly sighed, "Mmm best pillow ever."

He snorted, "Guess I need to lift more."

Scales covering his massive muscle prickled feeling her smile, "Don't worry, I like it firm."

Raphael easily chuckled, "Do you now?"

Suddenly a blue-eyed freckled siren was on her arms leaning over him, "Oh yes I do."

Raphael felt a familiar warmth in his tail that he had felt more often in the last few days than he would have liked to admit. He wanted to reposition himself, but didn't want ruin things by making a wrong move, "Bit of a tease aren't you?"

April narrowed her eyes fiendishly, "No worse than you."

He smirked, "Says the girl who skinny-dipped earlier."

She countered, "You did too tough guy."

The reptile rolled his eyes, "Because I wear so much normally."

He loved how her eyes sparkled as she obviously flitted briefly down memory lane, "Still meant something."

Once again he folded his arms underneath his head to try and increase his swagger, "Did it now?"

Her eyes smouldered and left his heart racing, "You know it did."

It's true he did. He had seen how her eyes ran him over, not in disgust but in sheer craving. He had felt the warmth from her touch increase, becoming ever hotter with each brush upon his wet scales. He had heard her breath quicken and he had smelt her delicious essence shift.

He was beginning to consider a cold swim might be a good idea.

Raphael still had trouble accepting that miraculously this goddess had chosen him, but something equally incredible left him breathless. He had no idea a person could make him feel so good by a mere kiss, a gentle touch, and a soft gaze. Maybe it was because he had long ago accepted such a world would never be his, but he did know if April could leave him so unravelled with such simple gestures he would be completely at her mercy at consummation. His heart skipped a beat, and despite himself he began to shake his head to escape such thoughts. April and he had only just admitted their affections, and although they had known each other for years before reaching this point, he refused to scare her away by bringing up such a topic.

It wasn't just for April, it was for him. Raphael knew he was different. It was for his sake as much as for hers that he wanted to wait. Her voice broke into his thoughts, "What's with the head shake?"

The mutant reptile silently cursed himself for his action, and quickly jumped for a reasonable explanation. Naturally, he had none. Instead, he leapt up and directed himself to the lakeshore. Her voice met his carapace, "Where are you going?"

He eloquently growled, "Water."

Raphael had not even gotten to the sand when a cool hand grabbed his forearm. He released a breath and slowly turned to meet those questioning eyes. He wanted to break their stare and continue his aquatic mission, but somehow April's azure pools had him trapped. After a moment she calmly spoke, "Its ok Raph. There's no hurry. We'll get there when we get there."

They continued to lock eyes in a moment of silent understanding. Raphael released a relieved sigh before diverting his attention back to the remnants of their little fire. A few tiny flames remained, but the coals were beginning to cool. He gestured in its direction, "You good if I douse it?"

She nodded, "Yep."

"You warm enough?"

She smiled playfully, "No. It's five degrees out (41◦F) and I'm sure I've got frostbite."

"Excuse me for caring."

"What? My hypothermia doesn't earn your doting?"

He sniped, "Ok I got it," and then proceeded to dump sand onto the embers. All too soon they found themselves in darkness. Raphael's mutant eyes adjusted first. He grabbed April's hand and led her to a grassy knoll that had a clear view of the sky, "Come on."

Guiding her gently, he sat her down on the fluffy green turf. He then slid down behind her, his back to the slope, positioning her between his legs and her back to his plastron. April laid back against his hard chest plates. Raphael did not restrain the smile that came when she pulled at his arms to wrap them around her relatively tiny frame. Sharing each other's warmth while gazing up at the multitudes of bright pin pricks littering the indigo sky, they cuddled. He felt the red-head vibrate as she murmured, "It looks like they're winking at us."

Raphael smirked, "Pretty sure that's why they say stars twinkle April."

"Hmph. You just have no imagination."

Even though he knew she couldn't see it, he still rolled his eyes, "And you do?"

"More than you!"

He snorted, "If I recall who was the one who thought _Ozymandias_ was about "some stupid statue of some stupid guy in some stupid desert?""

Raphael met her eyes when she twisted her head up to frown at him, "Don't use that against me! You caught me in a moment of weakness!"

He quirked an eye ridge, "What so you can't think under pressure? Not very ninja-like O'Neil."

"Well not all of us can be poetry ninjas!"

"Geez, imagine if I wrote more than five words on that page."

She rested her elbows thoughtfully on his chest cradling her jaw in her palms, "You gave me a lot more than five words and you know it."

He shrugged, "You did all the work."

April shook her head, "Yet you helped me more in five minutes than Donnie did in two hours."

A frown creased his lips, "What the full unedited history of the 17th century in 2000 words or less not your style?"

She gave him an appraising stare, "Don't be too hard on him. He's never had to hand in a paper before so how would he know? Speaking of which, how did you know?"

"I didn't."

April tilted her head in question, "What about giving me Walt Whitman's poem to read?"

"Think about it," he carefully rolled her back so she was facing the stars. Raphael whispered in her hair, "Why were you struggling?"

"Because I couldn't figure out what that stupid poem was about!?"

Raphael shook his head, "Come on April, you're better than that."

The girl was silent for a few minutes, and he returned his gaze to the horizon patiently waiting for her response. Finally she murmured, "I guess I just didn't know what to write about when I did figure out what the poem meant. I kept thinking, "_I don't read any poetry so how am I ever going to find a poem that matches this one?_" But then you found me one…"

"All I did was dog-ear a page."

"But you must have known there were things to talk about. There must have been a reason to pick that one. What about you writing, "Did it leave a mark?""

He shrugged, "Maybe I wanted to stick it to Don."

She slowly rolled over to face him again, "Wait… So all this time I thought you were a poetry genius, who had chosen the perfect poem for my essay to help me, when all you did was pick some random poem?" Her eyes widened, "Are you telling me I wrote an essay on a poem you knew nothing about? The poem that meant the difference between me passing or failing English was chosen just to take a jab at your brother?!"

"You done?"

She roared, "RAPHAEL I COULD HAVE FAILED!"

He grabbed her arms, "Whoa April chill. I never said any of that. I did know a lot about both poems. Hell, I've read a ton of both Shelley and Whitman's stuff. I just managed to hit two birds with one stone by marking _When I Heard The Learn'd Astronomer_ for you."

"Then if you knew so much why didn't you just tell me when I was ready to put my foot through my computer?"

Raphael frowned, "Seriously? Would you have believed me if I told you I was a closet poetry junkie?"

"Well…" He gave her a knowing look and she sighed, "No."

He continued, "You see? Besides, do you really think I would tell my brothers something like that? You saw how Donatello just brushed me off. They think I'm all brawn and no brains."

"Only because you never give them the chance to think differently!"

He snapped, "Did you ever think that maybe I wanted to keep it to myself?"

She blinked in surprise, "Why?"

"We share everything April! The same home, the same friends, the same stuff, everything! Poetry is one of the few things that is _mine_."

"Come on Raph," she continued unconvinced, "I'm sure there are other things you like that your brothers don't."

Raphael ran his hands over his face in frustration, "Things yes, but poetry isn't a thing." He gestured at himself, "Poems make sense to _me_."

April gaped in disbelief, "You think _poems_ make sense?"

"Yes! Poems don't speak in words April. They speak in images and feelings. My whole life I've been forced to speak my feelings through words, but it's not natural for me. Poets are different. They use words on the surface, but really they are speaking in feelings. Fuck, I'm still not explaining it right!"

She folded her arms thoughtfully, "Because you're trying to explain feelings. Right?"

He nodded sullenly, "You see, normally emotions get packed into these neat little boxes, right? One word to describe anger. One word to describe happiness. One word to describe sorrow. If you're in a descriptive mood pull out a thesaurus, but that still doesn't explain what it means to feel. You know when someone says "words cannot describe?" That is my life all the time. Simple words just don't cut it."

"Raph…"

"But poems do," he exhaled and recited:

_"Only mouths are we. Who sings the distant heart  
which safely exists in the center of all things?  
His giant heartbeat is diverted in us  
into little pulses. And his giant grief  
is, like his giant jubilation, far too  
great for us. And so we tear ourselves away  
from him time after time, remaining only  
mouths. But unexpectedly and secretly  
the giant heartbeat enters our being,  
so that we scream -,  
and are transformed in being and in countenance."_

She gasped, "Who?"

"Rainer Maria Rilke's _Heartbeat_."

She was silent for a moment and he let her chew it over in her mind. He wanted to show her feelings too did not have to be limited by time and space. Eventually she whispered, "Raphael… I had no idea."

He shook his head, "It's alright. I never gave you a chance either."

"So my essay?"

He gave her a sheepish smile, "Yeah, I knew exactly what I was doing."

She leaned into him and he gratefully embraced her, "Oh Raph…" she mumbled in his chest, "I get if you want to keep stuff from your brothers, but you don't have to hide from me."

He inhaled her scent. It still bore traces of vanilla and strawberries, but somehow her skin had managed to capture the essence of fire and water. "I'm slowly figuring that out April. Just give me time."

April raised herself, eyes now matching the night sky, "I can be patient, but if you'd like I know how to make time fly."

Raphael's tail stirred again at her coy smile, "Yeah?"

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his. Capturing their own starlight, their eyelids fell in unison, and later as Raphael carried his sleeping angel home on his shell, he whispered:

"_Do you remember still the falling stars_  
_that like swift horses through the heavens raced_  
_and suddenly leaped across the hurdles_  
_of our wishes-do you recall? And we_  
_did make so many! For there were countless numbers_  
_of stars: each time we looked above we were_  
_astounded by the swiftness of their daring play,_  
_while in our hearts we felt safe and secure_  
_watching these brilliant bodies disintegrate,_  
_knowing somehow we had survived their fall"_

A smile crossed his face as he added, "And after so long, one steed still answered my call."

* * *

**Bibliography **

Rilke, R.M. "Falling Stars" Poetry Hunter. Translated by Albert Ernest Fleming. Available at poem/falling-stars/.

Rilke, R.M. "Heartbeat." Poetry Hunter. Translated by Albert Ernest Fleming. Available at poem/heartbeat/.

**A/N I just want to say I love Rainer Rilke! I wish I could speak German just to read his original stuff, but alas I do not… Also, this chapter is a dialogue beast, which was not entirely fun because that is an area I struggle with. So please let me know if the flow was good and if Raphael and April sounded natural/in character. Thanks guys =)**

**To My Lovely Reviewers:**

**Holy Comments Batman! I have never gotten so many new reviewers so quickly (thus why I'm glad to have relocated this section). Also, thank-you so much to those of you who have kept commenting regularly. It really means a lot to know I have fans who are rooting for me! I am glad you are enjoying this and I hope you will continue to stick with me until the end (which is a while away yet). **

**Guest: Thank-you! =)**

**Mr.E: I don't even have the words… Just Wow… I do take a lot of pride in my writing (especially this fic – I put an insane amount of time into each chapter), but to be called one of the best authors on the site is just so mind-blowing! Especially when I think about how many incredible authors I have come across! You really made my day! I hope I will continue to live up to your expectations! Also, before I bought Seasons 1 and 2, I used to use AnimeFlavor so it might be worth checking to see if the episodes are still kicking around on there… P.S. I love the 2k3 rehash too!**

**Komnenid2: I'm glad someone appreciated my twisting of science to make social interactions easier to manage in Don's mind. I gotta say my minor in applied physics probably wasn't intended for such use haha. Honestly, I haven't even considered these two that far down the line yet… but if I do ever make a Raphril babies fic I will keep that it mind. =)**

**Terri: Haha don't worry that is a boat many of us sail lol. I actually have been working on something of a smutastic nature for a while now, but I probably won't publish it until after "Love or Blood" is completed. Originally it was going to be on 2k14 Raphril, but I've gotten so into my 2k12 incarnations that methinks it will be totally focused on an older version of them. So to keep things consistent and to keep myself from going insane it's still a few months away… Doesn't mean I won't try to put as much as I can without turning it to smut here though XD Thank-you again for reading and giving me such awesome reviews!**

**SetoAngel01: I love making them dorks! Especially because I feel that is totally how they'd be acting at this earlier point in the relation. Lots of heat… then OMG we're actually doing this… then more heat… then OMG we're still doing this… XD**

**Komnenid: Haha ok yeah…. He'll probably not be quite to scale with normal turtles anatomically because that's a lot of Raph to deal with at once XD Don't worry though methinks April won't be disappointed anyway ;)**

**ariesdragon2000: Yes! I hit some new untraversed territory while hopefully staying in character? The species thing is a problem in and of itself, but I'm pretty sure most teens/young adults go through some serious jitters before any major unveiling (I know I did).**

**majishan: Yay! I have to say it's one of my favourites too. It's short, but so much happens and so many feels are felt!**


	13. Chapter 13: Calling

**A/N I still do not own TMNT, but am forever grateful for their creation! A shorter chapter, but I think it does the job. Thanks for reading and reviewing =)**

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Love or Blood

Chapter 13: Calling

The woods were calling him. The bark. The leaves. The soil. The earth, his mother, kept calling for her son to return to her embrace.

At first he had heard nothing in his sweet oblivion. Deadly, horrifying, blissful silence.

Then the whispers came.

He had watched Raphael fight Casey. He had seen Raphael use April as his life raft back to reality. He had heard Donatello's admission that things had been beyond his control.

Control.

He had followed his brown-eyed brother to bed, but instead of the sleep he so desperately needed, Leonardo began to realize how much he had lost. He was no longer in control, and he had no idea how to get it back. How could he repair something that he could not even find?

His thoughts jumbled. His mouth dried. His ears rung.

The whispers began.

When he first heard them, he thought perhaps the constant ringing he had been hearing for days had somehow twisted into these hushed voices. Just as he could not understand the high-pitched whine, he could not understand these slithering words. Loud enough to hear. Quiet enough to distort. As the sleepless hours slid by, Leonardo began to obsess over their hidden meaning.

By daybreak he knew their origin.

He left his bed with bloodshot eyes, and when the other occupants began to stir, their once Fearless Leader began his descent into the darkness of the woods.

That first day he had wandered endlessly, his legs ached trying to remind their host of their malnourishment and mistreatment. Unfortunately, their host no longer was there.

If Michelangelo had not somehow appeared from the canopy's light to deftly guide his elder brother back to the house, Leonardo would have stayed out far past sunset. The incessant whispers' protests pained Leonardo, but the younger would not relinquish his brother to the night. The older had no choice, but to follow.

Only later, when he laid down to endure another sleepless night, did the oldest turtle find some respite. At last the voices began to honour the mutant with figments. Blessed shards of understanding that would lead Leonardo to the truth behind their once unfathomable purpose.

True oblivion drew closer.

The days drifted by: a congealed mass of vague memories and forgotten feelings. Everyday Leonardo would set out earlier into the woods and everyday Michelangelo would appear before dusk. What the eldest once viewed as guiding disfigured into hauling. He began to hide his tracks, yet somehow the younger still managed to find him.

The whispers were displeased.

Their discontent meant Leonardo's delay into oblivion, but they were not unmerciful. They understood Leonardo's plight. They knew everything about the turtle. They knew his once bright dreams and sparkling hopes had turned to ash under the Shredder's fury. They knew of his failings. They knew of his pain. They simply wanted to provide Leonardo with an alternative. A choice. An escape.

Yes, they understood. They knew the turtle better than he knew himself, and they were so very merciful. Together, deep in the woods, they spoke to Leonardo. They told him their plan, and he eagerly listened, for Leonardo was no longer a leader.

And his freedom was calling.

* * *

**A/N *Sigh* poor Leonardo… No one mentioned it, but I purposely left him out of the group's brunch. So in case you were wondering, now you know what he was up to. **

**To my lovely reviewers:**

**Komnenid: "Raphael felt a familiar warmth in his tail" = him getting horny cuz his tail is where is junk is. No worries, I figured Komnenid2 had to be you… It sounded like you anyway XD And thank-you again for all your support 3 Your comments always make my day =)**

**AprilO'NeilXO: Thank-you so much! I still have a little ways to go so stay tuned! =)**

**Mr.E: Of course! On my more recent fics I've started replying to my reviewers because I just want to let you all know how much I appreciate you taking the time to give me feedback! Since I get so many reviews on this fic I especially make an effort to respond every time I update so I don't get swamped. All that said, after the amazing compliment you gave me I would have responded even if I didn't reply to my reviewers! I am also so glad to hear that all my hard work and effort shows! =)**  
**Also, thank-you for your review on 'Homecoming.' I actually have a huge love for Raph with super powers thus my indulgence to it in dif fics in and outside the main arc ('Threads' is the most current but different 'verse). I have actually written a rough part 4 in my 'Strength' verse. It's been sitting on my desktop for months (at around 9000 words), but it needs some serious work (an ending would help too) before I'm ready to publish it. So eventually it will come! I just don't know when…**

**clary2008: Thank-you! =D**

**Terri: Ahhh! So many things about the original sound so awesome! Still I really have grown to love this revamp. Mind, although the thought of Raphril at last being canon sounds AMAZING, considering how they've approached Don and April's relationship makes me wonder if I should be relieved. *Sigh* I guess the grass is always greener…**  
**I'm super relieved my dialogue came out well! It was just one of those chapters you know? I had written it right as I wrote the previous two, but I just felt like it didn't have the same spirit so I kept reworking it…. and reworking it… and reworking it… even the thought of trashing it all together did happen… Obviously now I'm thankful I didn't, but I'm even more thankful that it came together the way it did because I think it was some seriously good Raphril growth. Nonetheless, there were a lot of head hitting desk moments than I would have preferred lol.**


	14. Chapter 14: Sinking Smiles

**A/N I do not own TMNT, but am forever grateful for their existence!**

**Thanks again for reading and reviewing! =)**

* * *

Love or Blood

Chapter 14: Sinking Smiles

His facial muscles were sore. Several days had passed since he had put his plan into motion, and whether it was by beginning his morning ritual by plastering on his fake smile or massaging his face before bed, Donatello constantly fought to suppress the violent cyclone of emotions that now engulfed him.

That first morning had brought him a potent mix of longing and jealousy. Originally, he had deemed it better to avoid April until the inevitable day of Raphael's self-destruction. To wear a mask of normalcy around Raphael had been a challenge enough for the intellectual turtle, but April was more intuitive than his older brother. Every time Donatello interacted with April, he risked revealing his true intentions to the ravishing red-head. His emotions simply became too unreliable, and when combined with his already inhibited logic in her presence, the purple-clad turtle knew he should temporarily limit his April exposure.

He made a mental note that when any plan involved April, he needed to be prepared to calculate for contingency. It was this dire oversight that led Donatello to April's garden that first morning to set-up a mock irrigation system. It had been a grueling few hours, but with Casey as his assistant, some spades, and an ample supply of hosing, their vegetable patch had been successfully equipped to survive the approaching long hot summer.

Although the experience had provided no private interactions with the girl, it was still almost unbearable for Donatello to look in her direction. For every time he saw that angelic face, he found himself plummeting towards earth knowing she now belonged to Raphael. As the morning progressed, his envy grew. When they retired to the house for a late lunch, the sight of his older brother made his jealousy flourish. After a few ill-conceived comments that were far less subtle than he had intended, Donatello knew he needed to become more detached from the situation or otherwise threaten the very internal structure of his strategy.

When the couple disappeared into the woods, Donatello foolishly believed that if the objects of his current anguish were absent he would gain relief. Several hours later, after the sun began to sink behind the horizon, the turtle deduced he could publish a paper thoroughly examining the million inherent flaws in the idiom, "out of sight, out of mind" and why the phrase had no observable relevancy in reality. If his primary argument of interest didn't revolve around mutant turtle brothers stealing girlfriends and the unfortunate inherent bias involved, Donatello would have set to work typing instead of compulsively snapping his head every ten seconds to see if his experimental subjects had returned – that or he would have at least stopped nicking himself with the potato peeler every other minute.

Eventually it became apparent around eight that the couple was in no rush to return, and Donatello applied himself to brooding. How he was going to outlast Raphael in this silent competition of wills – that the other may or may not realize he was a part of – the purple-clad turtle had no idea. All he knew was he needed to stay strong, but it was hard to remain vigilant when he spied Raphael carrying a slumbering April on his shell into the house just before midnight.

It became even harder come four in the morning when the rain started.

Donatello knew spring could be wet North Hampton, but the weather that pummelled their home over the next several days gave a whole new meaning to the word. He was sure it was the Deluge, and half expected to see an ark floating by any day. Of course being a turtle and growing up in a sewer didn't make the reptile opposed to some rain. What he was opposed to was driving rain that brutally stung when it finished its pilgrimage from the sky above and the accompanying bouts golf ball-sized hail. Both of which had rendered the barn roof utterly useless. Morale was low for everyone, but being trapped in a small house watching Raphael surreptitiously make advances on his April left Donatello with both boiling blood and a smothering heart.

Evidently Casey Jones had recovered from the rejection. The first day he and Raphael had procured somewhat stilted conversation, but by the next day it was as though they had never argued. Donatello secretly admired Casey's ability to simply accept things for as they were. It certainly seemed to earn back April's trust, and left the vigilante happy. Alas, Donatello was a very different being from Casey Jones, which he understood all too well the morning the rain finally stopped.

The first indication that the weather had finally relented came at cockcrow and to the delight of everyone, the high-pitched proclamations from a certain small orange-clad jubilant turtle, "GUYS! IT'S STOPPED RAINING! THE SUN IS BACK!"

The second indication came from the empty bunk next to Donatello's. Every chance he got lately had seen Leonardo heading out into the woods. With the poor weather the last few days, Michelangelo had effectively put Leonardo on house arrest. Of course their older brother always managed to sneak past the younger turtle – Michelangelo had even tried sleeping at the base of the front door and so usually the frustrated announcements at being foiled yet again by ever-cunning Leonardo would awaken the light-sleeping ninja turtles. Donatello had asked Leonardo why their youngest brother was giving him such a hard time. The eldest casually stated it was stealth training. Something about the conversation seemed a little astray; however Donatello knew how seriously Leonardo took his training and simply brushed it off as his brother finally recovering from his ordeal.

The third indication came from the window. Bright, brilliant, and beautiful sunshine finally penetrated the windows instead of dreary cloud-filled gloom. Donatello pulled open the blinds to see tiny trails of evaporated rain drops on the glass. The occasional wisp of white contrasted the sky's high frequency blue, and already his olive-coloured scales detected the oncoming heat promised by the sun's intensity.

When he entered the kitchen, Donatello had already mentally scheduled his day. Now that the rain had finally ceased, the first and most important goal of the day was to go to the barn to repair the sections of roof that had ruptured from the tempest's voluminous aquatic onslaught. Donatello had more than missed hiding from the others in his straw-smelling sanctuary, but the moment he began to inhale his coffee, his marvelous plans crumpled at the manifestation of two baby blue eyes. He sighed and pinched between his eyes, "What is it Mikey?"

His brother folded his hands as though in prayer, "Please come swimming with us Donnie!"

Donatello glanced around to see a newly-arrived Casey now lounging with a towel over his bare shoulder. At the sight of his black swim shorts, he absently wondered if all the clothing the hockey-player owned was dark-coloured. The turtle didn't ponder it long for it was at that moment April strode in wearing a sublime yellow one piece leaving him breathless. When Raphael followed closely in behind the red-head, the purple-clad turtle found himself inhaling sharply while his older brother leaned in and whispered something in her ear. April's cheeks reddened as she shoved him coyly in response to his cocky smirk. Donatello's stomach churned as he watched the girl's eyes smoothly dance over Raphael's slightly sweaty figure – apparently the muscle head had already started his daily exercise regimen – and found his jaw unhinge slightly to discover his older brother's own cheeks darkening.

The two were so lost in each other they had not registered their spectators, but Michelangelo's eyes flicked rapidly from the couple to Donatello and back before giving the purple-clad turtle a look he could not recognize. Yet when he spoke his voice bore no sign of any deeper emotions only superfluous excitement, "Pleeeeeeaaaassseeee Donnnnnnniiiiiiieeeee. Everyone is coming!"

Donatello folded his arms as the attention in the room focused on him, "Is Leo?"

For the briefest of moments that look appeared on Michelangelo's face again, but Donatello swore if he didn't know better, his little brother had a glint of anger in his eyes. Before the youngest responded Raphael stepped towards his brothers, "No he's not," he placed a large hand on Michelangelo and gave Donatello a pointed look, "Still, Fearless wouldn't want us to waste the day because he's gone."

The purple-clad turtle saw Raphael's hand muscles tighten slightly to squeeze the younger's shoulder, which led to Donatello's resigned sigh, "Alright fine, but Mikey you'd better help me with the barn roof tomorrow."

His cheerfully upbeat little brother was back. He saluted, "Aye, aye captain!" Then turned tail and bolted through the door shouting, "Last one to the lake is a rotten egg!"

Casey was in close pursuit, "Casey Jones ain't no egg!"

Donatello glanced in Raphael's direction to see the couple once again exchanging a silent look. He frowned deeply and then pelted after the others, desperate that some distance would somehow alleviate the anger he felt. Yet, even as he dove into the cool lake water, Donatello still could not ignore the ever-present pressure on his chest. When he surfaced to see dual pools of emerald and sapphire collide, he knew no amount of space would ever pacify his suffocating core.

All he could do was bury his sinking heart among the reeds to resurface with a smile on his face.

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**A/N Just for the record, no one is going to die in this fic. I don't want to give anything away because Leonardo actually is really important to my plot, but I just wanted to alleviate some of the concerns I got from the last chapter. **

**Leo's chapters always present their own unique challenges for me for multiple reasons. I don't like torturing my characters, but Leo's character needs to go through stuff in order to grow. Then there is the side of trying to present the depression in a way in which my audience can empathize because it's so much more than mere sadness. It's hard enough to understand another's experience when it's intangible but then to additionally grasp the complexity that so many mental illnesses seem to flourish from… well it's difficult whether or not you've experienced something similar.**

**All that said, hopefully you guys will continue to stick with me, and as always please feel free to message me if you have any questions/concerns.**

**And now to my always lovely reviewers,**

**Terri: Thank-you! It's nice to know I'm not the only one who thinks so, and I'm glad I expressed it well!**

**majishan: Don't worry, Leo's just in a dark place right now, but like I said above no one is going to die.**

**Komnenid: Thanks for giving me such a detailed review! You are right, he has lots to be thankful for and that make life good (including April =D). Unfortunately when someone is as deep in depression as Leo is their brains tend to lie to them (for a number physiological and anatomical changes that I won't get into here) and convince them otherwise. But don't worry! Leo will get his love, just not yet… **


	15. Chapter 15: Here Comes the Sun?

**A/N I still do not own TMNT… le sigh… but I'm still forever grateful for their existence!**

**So yeah. This happened. Not only did I update on Tuesday, but you guys get TWO chapters today =D AND it gets better because this chapter has RAPHRIL! ;) Yeah you better be excited!**

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Love or Blood

Chapter 15: Here Comes the Sun?

Shrill screeches of delight swiftly shattered April's dream-filled slumber. After a moment's confusion as to why she was no longer searching the Shredder's fortress for a glue-gun, April stiffly dragged herself out of bed just in time to register the green and orange blur ricocheting through her doorway. She rubbed her eyes sluggishly before questioning the mutant turtle equivalent of a gas molecule, "What's up Mikey?"

Michelangelo pelted to her window and threw open the sash, "Look April! THE SUN IS BACK!"

The prickling sensation of the warm rays on her freckled skin was all the red-head needed to fully pull her to full consciousness. She smiled broadly, "YES! It's about time!"

"It's warm too! The weather dude on TV said it's going to hit like 22 C's (72°F my American friends)!"

"That's great Mikey," April leaned against the window frame and her eyes sparkled when she caught sight of the edge of the lake, "You know what we should do?"

Michelangelo positioned himself beside her to try and find the source of her attention, "What?"

She nodded towards the reflective surface, "Swim."

The smallest turtle's eyes widened in excitement, "Oh man April! That is the best idea! We so have to get the others in on this!"

April grinned, "I'll get Casey and Raph. You get Don and Leo?"

Blue eyes flashed quickly away from April's, "Leo's gone already."

"Oh Mikey," April reached out and placed her hand on the turtle's shoulder, "You want me to go look for him?"

Michelangelo drew steadying steel into his voice, but April did not miss his eyes blink rapidly a few times before doing so, "No. I'll look for him later. Let's just… Let's just try to have fun without him."

"You sure?"

Once again a joyful bundle of turtle materialized before her, "Fo sho gurl! If he wants to talk to trees all day and miss our bawlin' pool party it's his loss! You get Raph and I'll grab the others!"

April wasn't fooled by the departing reptile's cheerful demeanor, but she would let it slide for now. She quickly dug around in her dresser. In the rush of escaping the city, none of them had brought much with them. After they arrived, one of the first orders of business had been to go and buy some extra clothes for Casey and herself. Thankfully, April's room still held a number of her mother's old things from when she was her daughter's age so the red-head bought comparatively less than the hockey player. One of her better finds amongst her mother's possessions had been a cute yellow one piece swimsuit. April had only quickly looked at the suit back in February before pushing it aside in favour of more season-appropriate apparel, but now she was wishing she had tried it on to see if it would even fit. Hopefully it would, otherwise she would be swimming in old shorts and a T-shirt.

Finally, she found the object of her search. It was your stereotypical suit. Scoop neck with the back diving down. However, the sides did have ties running the length in a criss-crossing pattern, which was good because it meant April would be able to adjust it accordingly. After tossing her PJ's aside and several minutes of undoing and redoing laces, she presented herself to her reflection for some last minute preening. The elastic was worn in a few places and the slight sagging of fabric in the chest indicated her mother had been more endowed than April, but overall she didn't look half-bad. It wasn't quite as becoming as her other suits back in the city, but it would do. She gave herself one final once over and after deciding against her usual pony tail – her hair needed a washing anyway – she entered the hallway.

Donatello and Leonardo's room had been left ajar, and a quick glance inside indicated both its inhabitants had already departed. Casey slept in a small room off the kitchen, but Raphael and Michelangelo's room was the last before reaching the staircase. The door was still closed. April assuming Raphael had to be awake after all of his youngest brother's earlier racket, lightly rapped on the wood before calling, "Raphael?"

She heard the shuffle of feet and groaning of floorboards before the old brass knob turned revealing a somewhat dripping Raphael. He was moving a greying towel along his damp neck. When she caught glimpse of that one lone bead of perspiration oh so slowly trailing down one of his biceps deftly displaying all the bulging muscle's exercise-induced glory, April found her mouth dry while her mind drained away to fill her warming core. The turtle quirked an eye ridge as his brilliant emeralds quickly darted down to her toes and back up again before smirking, "I thought we decided not to bet on that last game of Street Fighter?"

April felt her cheeks blaze while she struggled to regain control of her mouth. Raphael's eyes flicked down again and chuckled, "Wow. Didn't realize you could blush there."

The red-head didn't need to look down to know her freckled chest had betrayed her – hell her skin was so hot she could probably roast marshmallows on it. To give her mouth some time to catch up she lightly smacked his plastron before snapping, "My eyes are up here jerk!"

He snorted before fully meeting her gaze, "Hey, it's not every day a guy gets woken up to a girl in a swimsuit. I want to enjoy it."

Raphael wrapped his wondrously hard right arm around her shoulders before she countered, "We both know you weren't sleeping."

As he glanced to briefly inspect the arm still holding his towel, April made her mistake. She couldn't help herself. Raphael rolled his free shoulder before stretching it out straight. Then he held it there and his eyes caught hers lingering on his extended limb. He smirked, "My face is up here O'Neil."

Red couldn't even describe the shade her skin took on at his remark. Of course words failed her and so she buried her face in her hands awaiting her fate. April was only like that for a moment before she felt Raphael's breath on her fingers as he nuzzled her cradled head, "Come on out April."

All she could do was produce an inarticulate moan of embarrassment before she felt three strong fingers gently probe in between her own. Despite herself, she opened her eyes allowing him to catch a glimpse of blue amidst the cracks. His mask crinkled as he gave her a beautiful smile. He murmured, "There she is."

Finally she allowed him to pull away her hands and she huffed, "I couldn't help it."

Raphael continued to smile as he nodded, "With you in that get-up, neither could I."

This time she was pleased to see his cheeks darken alongside hers. April cleared her throat, "Speaking of which… You want to go swimming?"

He tilted his head, "Just us?"

April loved how his right thumb drew circles around her arm, "Not this time tough guy. Everyone is coming! Well everyone except Leo…"

The turtle sighed, "He in the woods again?"

She nodded, "Yep," and continued at his frown, "But I think Mikey really needs some company today."

"Yeah?"

Her heart ached at the obvious worry that now perpetually lined Raphael's brow, "He didn't say anything, but he's really starting to get worried about Leo, Raph."

Green eyes flicked away, "He's not the only one."

"Maybe we should take this chance to talk to Don and Casey?"

April felt his arm tense and his thumb stilled, "Casey's game to do whatever needs to be done. With Don… I… I just don't know April." She patiently waited for him to continue, "I mean… He acts like he's ok, but I keep getting the feeling that every time I turn my back on him I get a shell full of daggers."

She leaned into his plastron. April knew the last few days had been hard on all of them. Being stuck inside had made them all a little stir-crazy. She also knew Raphael's relationship with Donatello seemed more than a little stagnant. Neither said much to one another, and when they did, April could sense the subtle cynicism in the younger's tone. April had tried to corner Donatello on several occasions, and considering their close proximity over the last few days, she initially anticipated it would be no trouble having a heart-to-heart with the turtle.

One would think that, but one would be wrong.

It quickly became apparent to the red-head that said turtle was flat out avoiding her. If Donatello sensed April's incoming he immediately latched onto the nearest housemate. He even preferred to sit in silence with Raphael than stand in a room alone with April.

Of course Raphael wanted April to talk to Donatello, but as the days passed and the brothers' relationship continued deteriorating, the red-clad turtle was becoming more and more agitated. He was obviously upset about Donatello's behaviour, and the only thing that seemed to cheer him was the hope that he hadn't completely ruined April and Donatello's friendship alongside everything else. April truly believed Raphael was innocent of blame, but said reptile apparently thought differently. So no matter how many times April tried to convince him it wasn't his fault, nothing she said made any difference.

The last thing April wanted to do was add more guilt for Raphael to carry by enlightening him on how Donatello would not even talk to her outside of another's presence, and even then their conversation was lacking. Their interactions including covering such invigorating topics as the average lifespan of a refrigerator, the annual migration patterns of snow geese, and – April's all-time-favourite – the many uses of baking soda – apparently people used it for more than science fair volcanoes. However, after three days of dealing with the brothers' constant melodrama, April was more than relieved to finally get some space, but she would be damned if Raphael's endless moping kept him from taking advantage of this glorious spring day.

She wrapped her fingers around his hand, "I know it's been tough Raph, but I think right now you both need to get outside of this house. Some sunshine, fresh air, and exercise will probably do you both wonders. Who knows, maybe a good swim is all Don needs to shake him out of his funk." She continued silently to herself, "_And yours too."_

He continued to sulk, "Yeah right."

April rolled her eyes, "Come on Raph, it's so nice outside! Don't ruin it."

His frown deepened further, "I'm not ruining anything April."

She pulled her hands off of his and folded her arms, "Yes you are!"

"Fine! Just add another screw-up to my tab then!"

Raphael pulled himself away and shoved the door aside to return to his room, but April wasn't giving up so easily. She slid in behind him before he could close the door on her, and returned his glare with her own. Although she had to bite her tongue to quell her own anger, she valiantly stood her ground in silence. After several moments of tension the turtle cursed under his breath and broke from her stare in favour of agitatedly pacing. April continued to wait. Finally, he slowed, and released a final frustrated breath before mumbling, "Sorry."

She had planned to throw some of her own choice words in his direction, but then he had to aim those pleading green eyes full of anguish in her direction. Naturally April unravelled, "Look," she sighed, "Can we just try and have fun today? Just pretend that everything's ok?"

"April," his eyes no longer held anger but concern, "That's not going to make this go away."

She hugged herself, "Just one day…"

"April…"

Tears welled making her eyes water. April refused to let them fall, "Fine. It doesn't have to be a whole day. Just one morning. This morning. Please Raph just give me this…"

Squeezing her eyes closed out of apprehension of what his response would be, she mentally began to curl inwards. She knew she couldn't run forever; that they couldn't run forever. Knowing that still didn't make facing reality any easier and the fear any less real.

Suddenly, April found herself in a warm embrace.

Her eyes opened to Raphael's strong form surrounding her and for that brief moment in his arms April found herself secure, shielded from the world. He murmured, "April I'd give you anything, but some things are not mine to give." Her chest squeezed in that heartbeat of silence before he continued, "But I can give you this."

Raphael then pulled away, grabbed her hand, and led her through the doorway, "Come on, if we don't hurry up Mikey will come looking for us and I ain't letting him see us like this."

April rubbed her eyes dry as they descended down the stairs, "What? Covered in sweat and scantily clad?"

He snorted, "We'd never hear the end of it. By the way, is that yellow number what you planned on getting me into?"

She grinned fiendishly, "Maybe," pulling from his grasp, April escaped to the kitchen.

A moment later, poker face firmly in place he entered the room. Purposely positioning himself to insure several seductive shivers ran down her neck from the tantalizing caress his warm breath gave her vulnerable ear, Raphael whispered, "With an imagination like that I can't wait to see what other tricks you have up your... I'd say sleeve, but that's not where I'll be looking."

In a half-hearted effort, a very reddened April impulsively pushed at his plastron. Instead of verbally disarming him she chose another tactic. Boldly she allowed her eyes to wander over as much of his body as she could before coyly returning his gaze. Darkened cheeks now accompanied that once cocky grin.

The morning was far from lost.


	16. Chapter 16: The Ugly Duckling

**A/N I do not own TMNT, but I am forever grateful for their creation!**

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Love or Blood

Chapter 16: The Ugly Duckling

After three days trapped in a small shack with almost constant company, all Raphael wanted was some alone time. Considering the circumstances, the turtle was pleased and a little surprised he had managed not to lash out during the ordeal.

First there was Michelangelo and Casey. Both were never meant to be confined in small spaces for more than a few hours at a time. Their confinement during the storm had made Raphael feel more than a little claustrophobic.

Then there was Leonardo. Before fleeing the city, the red-banded turtle would have been more than pleased to have a few extra hours without his nagging older brother, but now every time Leonardo disappeared into the woods, Raphael was left stewing in anxiety until his return. It did not help that each time he disappeared into the tempest, Michelangelo was left in a state of near-hysteria effectively leaving them all a little on edge.

Yet, although these members of the household were undoubtedly trying, they were not Raphael's primary source for his ever-growing agitation. That position was easily held by his immediate younger brother.

Even though Donatello had been subtle, Raphael had not overlooked the numerous darts thrown in his direction at every opportunity. Not only did they sting as they met their mark, but each dart was brimming with poisonous guilt, which insidiously infiltrated Raphael's blood stream with every hit. As the storm raged on, the more his system was filled with the toxin leaving his mind and heart to endlessly reel in the guilt's noxious vapours. By the time the clouds finally parted, the red-clad turtle's very core had been infected, leaving Raphael's vision constantly blurring with either anger, sorrow, or shame.

Even his angel April, before the one being that always gave him some asylum, could not suck the poison out with her affection. Instead, as the days inched by, her presence began to have the reverse effect. Without her once curing love, Raphael often felt his heart quaking painfully within his chest, and after each fissuring spasm, the turtle could not help wondering how long his heart would remain whole under such unrelenting pressure.

The morning the rain stopped, Raphael found himself blissfully free of the pain for a few moments when the red-head appeared in his doorway, but it was not to last. Even though Raphael threw on as strong of a swagger as he could to ease April's mind, by the time the party reached the lake he wanted nothing more than to crawl into his shell and wait for better times. However as the morning drew on, Michelangelo, Casey, and April united in their determination to make the most of the false sunshine; so despite the constant reminder of his sins, Raphael's mood began to improve. With the noonday sun in the sky he even began to enjoy himself.

Raphael and Casey were wrestling in the shallows when Michelangelo and April squealed for the group's attention, "GUYS!"

He paused while holding Casey in a headlock to see his youngest brother gesturing rapidly, "Look! Look!"

This time Donatello even looked up from where he was basking to join where all eyes had focused. Drifting gracefully along were the Mallards from a few nights ago – or what looked to Raphael like the same Mallards. Except, this time their elegance was now slightly hindered by a dozen puffs of yellow fluff closely following behind by madly kicking their webbed feet to maintain their less-than linear position. Little peeps breaking free from tiny orange bills only further added to their parents' deteriorating poise. However, as graceless as the young family was, they more than made up for it in awkward adorability.

Raphael, Casey, and Donatello silently swam closer to where April and Michelangelo were treading water near the reeds. Within the shelter of tall cattails and slender leaves, the group was able to discretely observe the ducks without disturbance. April cooed, "They are so cute!"

Casey smirked, "Well duh, they're babies. All babies are cute. Otherwise how would the parents survive?"

"Actually," Donatello began, "Many non-mammalians do not provide parental care after the eggs hatch. Some birds like the cow bird even go so far as to lay their eggs in other birds' nests to steal resources from-"

Casey snapped, "Nobody asked Donnie."

While the two former competitors in love glared at each other, Michelangelo exhaled in excitement, "Look how many there are! There's like a dozen ducklings in need of naming here! Let's see…" He began pointing at individuals, "That one in the lead can be Quick Quack, then that one with the mussed up feathers can be Curly Q, oh and that one who can't swim straight is Quizzy…"

Sighing as his youngest brother continued to spout ridiculous names, Raphael turned his attention to the last duckling frantically paddling to try and keep up. Despite its obvious efforts, the baby had not managed to move from its spot for the last several seconds. The turtle was frowning at the struggling puff of yellow fluff when he spied what appeared to be a large clump of duckweed hooked onto one tiny little foot.

Raphael was about to move into action to free the little guy, when a flash of yellow careened towards the trapped bird. It was the baby Michelangelo had dubbed Quick Quack and upon briefly examining the distraught duckling, dunked its head under the water to chew at the green slime. A few moments later, a very relieved peep came from Quick Quack's sibling and together they swam off to catch up with their family.

Apparently Raphael had not been the only one to witness the display. A quiet voice came from his right, "Nice to see caring siblings."

That chilling pain returned to his chest when he glanced at the voice's owner. Raphael kept his voice equally quiet, "Don…"

His brother continued as if Raphael had not spoken, "It reminds me of that old fable "The Ugly Duckling." Cute little ducklings are jerks to an ugly grey signet. Then they grow up, the signet turns into a swan, and the adult ducks are left envious of their once ugly sibling. Simple story, simple morale. Right? Treat everyone with kindness despite their looks because you never know what they'll turn into."

The older turtle nodded warily and Donatello continued, "It's assumed the story shows karmic justice at its finest, but I always wondered something. A newly hatched signet already has a good 30 grams on your typical duck," He gestured towards the ducklings, "like those Mallards there, but swans are much larger birds. So by the time they were five weeks old, the ugly duckling would have been more than double the size of his siblings."

Green eyes narrowed, "So?"

Brown eyes pierced him, "So, was it fair for the signet to be rewarded in the end? I mean one has to wonder if the ducklings were actually afraid of their monster of a sibling, and if so, it kind of negates the point of the story. Don't you think? Being rewarded for something _he_ _didn't deserve_?"

Raphael clenched his fists so hard his fingernails dug into his palms. His voice shook from building anger as he growled, "Donatello, if you have a problem why don't you just spit it out?"

His brother's eyes widened innocently, "I was just talking about some kids' story Raph. Nothing more."

The others by this point had noticed the tension in the water around them, and were watching the two brothers cautiously. The red-clad turtle tried to calm his voice, "Now why do I doubt that?"

The addressed reptile shot his older brother a condescending look, "Look Raph, if the intricacies of a story like "The Ugly Duckling" is beyond your level you really should just say something. It would save us-"

Donatello didn't finish his thought. After days of being on edge and swallowing his rage Raphael snapped. He flung himself through the water landing a tirade of punches on his brother's face, shoulders, and shell. Anywhere he could land a hit he blindly attacked, pushing Donatello further under the water. Michelangelo and Casey threw themselves into the fray to each grab onto one of the larger turtle's arms. After Casey threw a few of his own punches into Raphael's way, they finally managed to pull the furious mutant off his brother. Upon surfacing Donatello spluttered, spitting out both water and blood, but Raphael did not miss the brief look of satisfaction that flashed across the injured turtle's face. Raphael froze in the water when April swam towards not him, but his brother. She cried, "RAPHAEL! What were you thinking holding him under like that? He could have drowned!"

That was the problem. Raphael didn't want to think anymore. Not when the face of his tormenter bore the aggression that should have been directed at himself. It did not matter that his blood still boiled thinking about the last words his brother had spoken to him.

He had done this Donatello. He had no right to injure his brother more, physically or otherwise. It did not matter that Donatello had spoken those words out of hurt. He gruffly pulled away from Michelangelo and Casey's restraining grips and moved towards his brother and April, "Donnie… I'm so sorry…"

It did not matter Donatello had provoked him. "Save it Raph," Donatello glared through one rapidly swelling eyelid, "Apologizing means nothing if afterwards nothing changes. So don't make promises you can't keep."

Raphael did not move closer. He diverted his gaze down. He could no longer stand to meet his brother's eyes, and he could not even look in April's direction. He did not want to see what he knew was there. To see it was to experience it in full, and he knew that right now that would be all that was needed for him to break. It did not matter that Donatello's physical wounds would heal far sooner than the psychological ones his words had dealt.

Without speaking, Raphael dove under the water. It did not matter that deep down Donatello had always thought Raphael to be inherently stupid.

As his hands moved through the cool liquid he felt his knuckles sting from where they had made impact on Donatello's flesh. Raphael was the strongest physically of the turtles, but when it came to verbal combat, Donatello was unmatched.

When the turtle emerged from the lake and moved onto the shore, he didn't even bother to shake off the excess water. Instead he welcomed the camouflage its liquid presence provided his slow salty tears. It did not matter because all his family ever took score on was that in the realm of the physical, which would always put Raphael at a disadvantage. The turtle disappeared into the woods, and with him the sun fell out of the sky.

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**A/N Thanks again for reading and reviewing guys! It really means a lot to me to read your feedback =D**

**Consequently to my lovely reviewers:**

**jody .edwards.790: YES JOIN US! *cough* anyways… Thanks so much for your comment/reading/fav/follow! There have been times where this fic has been challenging so it's always so good to hear that my approach for this pairing/situation is working well. =)**

**Komnenid: All I can say is wait and see. A lot's about to happen in the next few chapters…**

**Terri: Thanks so much! Your reviews always make my day =) I agree 2k12 Raph is rocking on the wit and flat-out swagger. For all the other TMNT characters I can more-or-less pinpoint (or at least top 3) my favs, but I just can't with Raph. Every Raphael reincarnation gets all my love 3 **

**Mr.E: No need to apologize! It always flatters me that people find time out of their busy lives to read my stuff let alone review! Plus, I too know well the madness of midterms… Yep yep Canadian I am indeed. Also, it's good to know that someone wants me to continue the strength arc. That will help motivate me to get back into it. So after "Love or Blood" is done I will see what I can do. **

**majishan: Thanks for both your comments, but as I wrote to Komnenid you'll just have to wait and see… **


	17. Chapter 17: What Cannot Be Stitched

**A/N I do not own TMNT, but am forever grateful for their existence!**

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Love or Blood

Chapter 17: What Cannot Be Stitched

Shortly after Raphael disappeared, the party divided. Casey and Michelangelo set out to find the two oldest turtles, and April dragged Donatello to the farmhouse washroom to tend to his wounds. Presently, said injured terrapin was straddling the commode while the red-head applied ample – and very painful – quantities of rubbing alcohol to his multiple facial abrasions.

A mere few hours earlier, Donatello would have done everything in his power to avoid his current predicament, but that was before April chose his side over his brother's. If Donatello knew this would happen, he would have gotten Raphael to beat him up ages ago. Nevertheless, it appeared as if things were finally returning to normal. His volatile brother was once again undoubtedly out breaking stuff as usual, and April was back on his side with nothing but doting affection. Balance had once again returned to Donatello's universe.

Up until this point their conversation had revolved around his various lesions, but as April began the delicate work of applying several stitches to his cheek – Raphael's rough scales must have pierced the flesh – she steered the conversation to unexpected territory, "I hope he's ok."

Donatello tried to act dumb, "Who? Leo?"

Icy eyes sliced through his delusion, "You're too smart to play stupid Don. You know who I'm talking about."

His brown eyes widened forcing him to swallow a cry of pain as his tender flesh pulled against April's suture material – after tending Leonardo's injuries all they had left for anaesthesia was some wintergreen ointment – and it donned on the purple-banded turtle that he was trapped.

Over the last few days, April had tried to corner him, but Donatello had always managed to find an escape. Usually he would latch onto Casey or Michelangelo because the turtle knew April wouldn't discuss anything related to her feelings with them present. However, now she had him and even worse, she knew it.

Donatello either had to grotesquely rip more of his aching flesh from the suture material in her grasp or submit to a conversation that was no longer continuing as calculated. Neither option was ideal. Although the former did receive its due diligence in its consideration, in the end pain won out and Donatello pursued the latter course of action.

Minding his cheek he asked, "Why are you worrying about him? He's not the one who was half-drowned while being kicked out of his shell!"

She jabbed the needle into the skin a little more aggressively than was necessary, "Because he's the one who was called stupid –"

He cut her off in a patronizing tone, "- Well he sure as shell isn't the brightest bulb April!"

"He may not have your so-called scientific genius," she spat, "but he's a hell of lot smarter than you in a lot of ways!"

April paused halfway through the suture pattern, and now was literally holding him in place by tightly twisting the threads around her fingers. In his ire Donatello countered, "Oh yeah? Name one!"

Her frosty glare narrowed, "Well as far as the empathy goes he's a savant compared to you!"

"Raph!?" Despite the pain Donatello snorted, "Are we even talking about the same turtle? The guy only gets one emotion April and that's anger."

"Don't lie Don," April hissed, "you know that's not true!"

Of course the turtle knew his brother wasn't a raging lunatic most of the time, but ironically the one characteristic Donatello loathed in Raphael was now proudly baring its teeth in him. He spoke in a low dark voice, "Since you seem so confident in this, why don't you enlighten me April?"

The red-head stood her ground, "Unlike you, Raphael has almost always understood how I feel."

Donatello was taken off guard, "I get your feelings!"

The turtle's surprise only seemed to enrage the girl – still attached to him – more, "No you don't! You never did! You've been pining after me for months, and yet I still didn't jump into a relationship with you. Don't you think maybe that was a sign? That maybe in reality I just didn't feel that way about you?"

Disregarding the pain, he pulled out of her hold. He didn't even to bother covering the cheek. Instead tears of blood slowly ran down his face, "But you kissed me! Girls don't kiss guys if they don't like them!"

"What was I supposed to do Donnie?" Her eyes began to water as she quickly sprang to block the doorway, "Here's my best friend totally head-over heels for me, and no matter how hard I try I just cannot return his feelings! I began to question everything! I thought maybe a little physical intimacy would give me the sparks I needed, but when that didn't work I just didn't know what to do."

Donatello felt he was on the verge of prolapsing from the pressure he now felt constricting his torso, "So all of that meant nothing to you?!"

Her voice cracked as she continued, "I was just so torn Donnie. I felt the only way you would be happy would make me miserable, and I seriously thought about sacrificing my own happiness for yours."

"I would have made you happy!" He cried, "Way happier than Raphael ever could!"

April's eyes immediately transformed from sorrow to rage, "See, you still don't get it!"

"Get what?"

"You still can't possibly believe that I have deep feelings for Raphael and not you."

He didn't want to hear this. He didn't want to face the truth. He tried to side-step April so he could escape, but he was trapped. He growled, "I get it. You have thing for bad boy muscle heads."

He then folded his arms hoping to demonstrate to her his request for release, but instead April's eyes flashed dangerously. She did not budge an inch. When she spoke her voice was filled with fury and gradually accelerated as her wraith increased, "Wow. You really think you're all high and mighty don't you?"

Suddenly Donatello didn't feel as brave as April mercilessly continued, "So tell me about your stupid war with Casey over me. Do you have any idea what it feels like to be treated like some prize piece of meat at an auction? Or to have your feelings and opinions completely disregarded for the sake of some immature competition?"

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off, "But really, why would you? Why would you care when you never even bothered to ask me how I felt about you? Why would you care when my consent obviously meant nothing to you! You just assumed "if I like her enough she will like me back," but I got news for you Donatello, that's not how any relationship should work.

"Then you have the audacity to treat your brother like shit because he "stole" me from you? Get off your high horse Donnie! Raphael did not _steal_ me from you. It takes two, which means I had a say. I didn't choose you because I didn't fall for you. I fell for Raphael and thankfully I was lucky enough that he wanted me just as much as I wanted him."

Finally he got a chance to speak, but found himself at a loss for words. He had never even entertained the thought that his competition with Casey could have an inverse effect on his relationship with April, and even worse, he had over time begun to assume that once said rival was out of the way, April would automatically go for him. Naturally Raphael would have looked that much more appealing when April considered her other suitors. The only thing that made him feel more miserable was discovering that the girl of his dreams had never managed to even think of him more as a friend. That all his efforts had been in vain, and he had been wrong. Donatello knew then if he should be pissed at anyone, it should be at himself.

When he didn't immediately respond, April took on far less fear-inducing tone, "Donnie, you need to know I don't regret my decision because I acted on my heart, and that wasn't in anyone's control but mine. So please stop blaming and torturing Raphael."

Donatello pinched his eyes closed fighting back his own tears, "So what, you want me to just go and fix it like I do everything else?" He opened his eyes to glare at her, "It's not that easy April!"

For the first time in his life Donatello actually forced April out of his way – albeit gently – he didn't care if his cheek was only partially stitched. He was done. The turtle managed to jump down the stairs and fling open the front door before April cried from the top of the banister, "Donnie please! I'm sorry that I hurt you!"

With the door wide open he froze at her words. Without turning around he responded, "Sometimes apologies just aren't enough," and he slammed the door in his wake.

* * *

**A/N First off, did April and Don come across as natural? April kind of seriously unloaded on Don here, but I think it needed to happen because it had been building for a while.**

**Also, I'm sorry guys things aren't getting any happier any time soon… However, if you want something more pleasant I have posted a fic called "Our Style" based on this 'verse for Valentine's. It's my first attempt at something in the realm of smut so if you're older (+18) you should go check it out!**

**Also thanks again so much for reading and reviewing! It is always greatly appreciated =D**

**To my lovely reviewers:**

**majishan: I know all the feels are happening…**

**Mr.E: Thank-you! I look forward to them =) I'm glad I'm making Canada look good! Woot. Woot. Also, personally with the exception of Raph the other three totally cycle on who I like the best based on the verse, but yeah I'm a little rough on Don here…**

**kamilaloveboysloveyaoi: I know… It makes me sad too…**

**Terri: I have no idea… My mind pretty much never shuts off and so I'm always on guard for when a new idea smacks into my train of thought. Still as much as I'd like to say that I stick to my outlines, half the time they end up being a really rough skeleton. Like with the ugly duckling, would you believe it wasn't planned for at all? Often I have the set-up for the chapters ready, then when I sit down to write it, BAM INSPIRATION and the story totally takes a mind of its own. **

**SetoAngel01: Hey no worries! That's how life goes, and probably how my life will start to go in the next month or so XD Consequently, I've been writing like mad to try and get stuff done before it happens. Also I know! I hate torturing my characters! But alas it must happen for the sake of plot… I'm glad you're still enjoying it though.**

**Komnenid&amp;Komnenid2: Thanks! Don can totally be an evil genius. Also although good guess (I route I did contemplate) as you can tell it's not the way I went, but yes Mikey does play a role at some point. **

**turtlesrockmysocks: Thanks so much! Reviews like this really mean the most to me, because I too have to have something really connect with both my heart and mind before I will typically say something (cuz I'm shy…). So the fact I got a review from you is super awesome =D I'm also glad to hear that it's staying in the realm of the believable without using a crazy deus ex machina or something. I definitely want to make sure I keep doing my favourite couple justice! **

**ariesdragon2000: Haha I'm sorry I wrote as fast as I could, but I guess you just can't rush these things ;)**


	18. Chapter 18: Etchings in the Earth

**A/N I do not own TMNT but am forever grateful for their creation!**

**Also _Lub Dub_ is the sound of the heart beating. Lub is the first sound from the AV valves closing and Dub is from the semilunars closing. Just FYI.**

* * *

Love or Blood

Chapter 18: Etchings in the Earth

_Lub Dub_

Darkness had fallen. The moon was but a thin crescent in the sky, the final remnant before it winked out altogether. The beginning and the ending. Always cycling. Always turning. Yet on that night, time now stood still for him.

He did not know how, but somehow he had evaded Michelangelo. In fact, if Leonardo were to ponder it, he would have realized he had not seen his youngest brother since he stepped over his still sleeping form so very early that morning.

When he entered the woods before dawn he entered them alone, and alone he remained.

_Lub Dub_

He heard nothing of the forest's wakening. No birds. No wind. Nothing, but the earth's pulsing beat.

_Lub Dub_

And deeper and deeper into the woods he followed it. All day he wandered. He did not eat. He did not drink.

All that mattered now was that he found the source. He needed to find it. To meld with it. To finally enter the oblivion he so craved.

_Lub Dub_

A small part of him wondered why the whispers had stopped. They had been his incessant guides for days, and yet when they had been at their loudest that morning – as he left the house – the moment he passed the threshold into the forest, they were silenced.

It was eerie roaming those woods with no sound. He was reminded of the dreams he had when he was in his coma.

Floating in dark silence. No stimuli of any sort. Just him crying for someone. For anyone to hear him. For anyone to find him.

_Lub Dub_

It was a bright, warm sunny day, but Leonardo felt none of the warmth and saw none of the light. Great branches shrouded the canopy in shade leaving the distant needle-strewn floor below cold and dark.

He did not care.

_Lub Dub_

It had been months since he could feel the change in temperature, and just as long had he been seeing through a shroud of shadows.

All was grey. All was bleak. All was dim.

The only reason he registered the curtain of night was because Michelangelo had always found him by now. Until that moment when he glanced up at the sky to see that wistful fragment of legends, his subconscious had been preparing for the inevitable run in with the young turtle.

But he had not come.

_Lub Dub Lub Dub_

And the earth wanted to reclaim her child.

_Lub Dub Lub Dub_

His mind was quiet for a while after that. His legs were disconnected from his brain, and so could only do what they had been last commanded to do: walk. All that was left to the moving turtle was the sound of the earth.

_Lub Dub Lub Dub_

Soon every one of his own heart's beats was in tune with hers.

_Lub Dub Lub Dub _

Hour upon hour passed.

_Lub Dub Lub Dub Lub Dub_

The darkness itself would have smothered him, filling his nostrils, stuffing his mouth, lining his eyelids, but the earth protected him with her mantra that soon became his own.

_Lub Dub Lub Dub Lub Dub_

His nose was runny, his mouth was dry, and his eyes were bleary when he came to the water, and as his feet entered the water, it was though his legs finally awoke to send jolts of agony up to their host.

Leonardo gasped in pain – the first new sound he had heard in forever – before collapsing into the wet sand.

_Lub Dub Lub Dub Lub Dub Lub Dub_

Watery needles attacked every scale on his hind limbs.

In a desperate effort to distract himself from the agony, he looked out over what to be the liquid body before him.

_Lub Dub Lub Dub Lub Dub Lub Dub_

He could see nothing but black oblivion.

Suddenly Leonardo knew.

This was it.

_Lub Dub Lub Dub Lub Dub Lub Dub Lub Dub_

This was where he had been destined.

_Lub Dub Lub Dub Lub Dub Lub Dub_

No one was there. His sole companion was that fragile sliver above who too would turn her back on him in shame once dawn arrived.

_Lub Dub Lub Dub Lub Dub Lub Dub_

It would be terribly easy. After all, he had been trained his whole life in the art of murder.

_Lub Dub Lub Dub Lub Dub _

He had not brought his katana – a wretched being such as he no longer dared to touch such noble blades – but he had a throwing star. That forgotten piece of metal he had left in his belt could finally fulfill the purpose of its creation.

_Lub Dub Lub Dub Lub Dub _

A falling star that would answer his final wish.

_Lub Dub Lub Dub_

Yes, it would be oh so easy.

Now was the time. He had been brought here. Oblivion itself was willingly opening its gates for him.

_Lub Dub Lub Dub _

He studied the star in his hand. Smooth steel. Sharpened edges. Deadly intent.

_Lub Dub Lub Dub _

One cut. Jugular vein. Carotid artery. Easy.

_Lub Dub Lub Dub _

He raised the star.

So fast.

_Lub Dub_

Unconscious in seconds.

Little pain.

_Lub Dub_

A brief sleep.

Then…

_Lub Dub_

Then…

…

_Lub Dub _

Then…

…

…

_Lub Dub._

Then…

…

…

…

The star fell upon the sand. The blackness of night slowly gave way to the indigo then midnight blue of dawn's approach.

When the first rays of light penetrated the horizon, they caught on that fallen star. The edge glinted and cast the fragile light onto several imprints in the sand.

Dark circular smudges formed around the words.

Leonardo wept. For all that separated him from eternity were mere etchings in the earth.

_Lub Dub_

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**A/N Can I just say that I really liked how this chapter came out? I just like the feel of it. Anyways, thanks so much guys for all your feedback on the last chapter. It is much appreciated! It never ceases to amaze me how I can feel so anxious about one chapter and so good about the next. Ah well c'est la vie. **

**Terri: That's great to hear because it was more or less what I was thinking. I think what it all boils down to is that they're all young and insecure, which can make them act in such ways (heck even adults I know act like this so what's maturity anyway?) and helps add fuel to everyone's motivations in later chapters. Plus there's a lot to be said that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Thanks =) **

**turtlesrockmysocks: Yeah I agree. Plus I always felt that April although not as obvious, in a lot of ways could rival Raph in the hot-headed department. Don did expect Raph, but April… Well not as much. He was too busy trying to get rid of the competition that he forgot to think about April. Thanks for reviewing! **

**Komnenid: I know I'm sure you're not the only Apritello fan who's less than impressed with me right now XD All that said, the story ain't over yet… ;) Although it is approaching, and I'm close to completing the rough draft of said final chapters.**

**Mr.E: They are quite the duo are they not? Also Casey makes his debut in the second season. I'm glad the link worked out for you =)**

**majishan: Haha don't worry that is exactly how I would describe it. In fact my master outline of awesomeness actually had written that very phrase right underneath the chapter number. Plus, I'm not one to talk since even April cursed in this chapter. XD**


	19. Chapter 19: Where it All Began

**A/N I do not own TMNT, but am forever grateful for their existence. **

**I'm assuming a couple of years have passed since sixteen-year-old April met the turtles, which makes her around eighteen. I'm only mentioning it for the sake of some later description.**

**Also, if you haven't seen it yet, Setoangel01 has honoured me by drawing some fanart for this fic! So you all should go check it out on her tumblr. Like now. Seriously it's amazing! =D Plus, I've never had fanart before so that makes it even more awesome!**

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Love or Blood

Chapter 19: Where it All Began

April sunk to sit on the top of the staircase. After watching Donatello slam the door in her apology's face, the red-head was feeling less than angelic. Yes, she had finally told him how she felt. However, the confession had been long overdue, and had not been intended to be filled with her rash and thoughtless temper.

Although it did not excuse his behaviour, Donatello had done what he did out of hurt. April had forgotten that. Like the coward she was, April had been all too willing to place all the fault on him when undoubtedly she carried her own share. Yet, even though neither April nor Donatello had sought to be held accountable, someone still had to take responsibility, and so ironically, it had been Raphael who willingly bore a burden that should have never been his to bear.

Until that moment, when Donatello's brown eyes met hers, April hadn't really understood the gravity of what that meant. It didn't matter whether or not the purple-clad turtle took the blame. What mattered was when she rejected it, Raphael took up her mantle. He was willing to carry this burden – a weight so heavy it risked tearing him apart – and April had just let him take what was meant to be hers. Suddenly, April didn't feel so good.

Laying her head against the banister, she could not help but wonder if they – if she – had been wrong about herself all along. April O'Neil did try to be a good person, but she often wondered if merely going through the motions of life was really all that was required.

Before she met the turtles, April had long since perfected her regiment. Get up, go to school, occasionally hang out with friends, have supper with her father, go to bed, repeat. An endless cycle she dutifully followed as though performing these simple tasks would grant her the prerequisites to a virtuous lifestyle.

Admittedly, April had come to appreciate many people in her life, but she had to wonder how many of them she actually cared about. Of course she loved her father, but the others? Part of her wondered if she had been friendly to them merely because social obligation demanded it. Part of her wondered if all those good deeds had actually had the best of intentions behind them. Did she actually emphasize with any of them, or had it all just been a way to get acceptance amongst her peers?

Then April remembered a memory long ago shoved to the darkest cobwebbed recesses of her mind. She had been young. No older than seven or eight. April remembered having a stupid crush on some boy in her class. In one of her conversations with him on the bus ride home, she had gotten the stupid idea of having a playground war of boys versus girls. It would be like battle tag, except the only way victory could be achieved was by capturing the team's leader. Naturally, in her stupid urge to impress her crush, April declared him to be his team's designated Napoleon, while she assumed leadership of the female ranks. Unsurprisingly, he had jumped at the idea, and so the next day would mark the initiation of April's grand game of the heart.

There was only one fatal flaw with her plan: April was no Joséphine, and held no sway over her Napoleon's affections. So when it began, the girls were horribly unprepared and while the red-head cowardly evaded capture, one of her "soldiers" had been hurt. Recess ended with the boys obviously victorious – despite the lack of the girls' leader in their clutches. Before returning to class, when April went to use the little girl's room, she was told off by another who had pieced together the dark truth of the whole horrid affair. The girl gave her simple statement: "That wasn't a very good thing you did," before leaving April alone to face the enormity of her evil deed watching her from the bathroom mirror. Searing it into her memory as a traumatic life-changing event, in which only an eight-year-old full of unrequited love and peer condemnation could, allowed April to clearly summon that teary-eyed, red-haired, and profusely freckled child from her reflection even over ten years later.

Looking at that little girl in her mind's eye, April still could feel the shame and remorse from hurting those around her merely for her own benefit. It had taken April a long time to forgive herself and an even longer time to believe that the one incident had not blotched her soul for life. However, even if forgiveness did not bloom overnight, she did everything she could to ensure her climb up the ladder of success was not on the backs of others – at least what little she could earn from her short eighteen-some years on earth.

Yet, April had apparently not learned her lesson; for if she had, Donatello and Raphael would not be in their current states of anguish. Her cowardice had once again uncovered the cruelty that resided deep inside her. For that she was truly sorry, but Donatello was right, sometimes apologies really weren't enough.

Apologies were merely the glue to one's broken heart. If all the pieces were present, it could be fixed, but if even one fragment is missing, the heart cannot be repaired until the hole is filled. So all one could do when forgiveness could not be gained, was use the memory to help form an alloy to help heal the damage that had been done. The heart would never be the same, but it would be whole.

As April rose from the steps, she knew it was all she could do, and so, it was time she talked to Raphael. The earlier incident worried her deeply, for the red-head feared his heart was already cracking and would develop a similar pathology to Donatello's if she did not intervene soon. Refusing to let it be the thief that stole away with her angel, April swore she would do everything in her power to keep her cowardice at bay.

April left the house to join in Michelangelo and Casey's search for the two older terrapins. She knew Raphael had been upset earlier, and although he too had no excuse for his violent behaviour, April understood why he had snapped. In retrospect, she probably would have expected him to blow up ages before he did. The fact that he had lasted this long demonstrated that her beloved hot-head was maybe finally starting to mature – at least a little bit.

It did not take her long to find the search party – they were making enough noise to rival New York City during rush hour – but neither Leonardo nor Raphael had been located. The growing nausea in her gut told her they did not want to be found. By the time night fell, the group returned to the farmhouse with neither missing mutant in their midst. As the three prepared dinner, all jumped at the sound of the screen door, but could not hide the disappointment to see Donatello slump inside to collapse dejectedly into a chair.

Donatello did not seek April's gaze and she did not seek his. When the team sat down to dinner, no one talked much. Instead eyes remained more or less fixed on their fish chowder for the duration of the meal. Michelangelo didn't even try to convince them to accompany him to the living room for their typical after-dinner showing of "Crognard the Barbarian." So once the dishes were done, they all fled to their respective rooms to curl up in the darkness of the night. Only April noticed the orange-clad turtle's change of course at the foot of the stairs to return to the outside realm. The red-head could not shake the ice slowly crusting her vertebrae at the look on his face before he disappeared into the shadows of the forest.

April did not sleep. Instead, after changing into her PJ's, she began a long vigil staring out her window into the abyss. It was cold that night but as time inched by, as though each hour was coated in molasses, the red-head became less and less aware of the frigid night air and more and more aware of the house's three absent inhabitants. Finally, when the horizon began to lighten around each lonely pinprick of starlight, a small shelled being crept out from the forest's oblivion. Rapidly, April threw on a pair of sweatpants and sneakers along with a black hoodie, and as she pounded down the stairs each step sent a rush of blood to her ears.

Michelangelo opened the door. Tiny lines of red painted his sclera's white canvas; each framed by shrouds of neither green nor purple, which only enhanced the sunken effect of his exhausted eyes. Utterly transforming the once bright turtle, his irises once more blue and alive than any prairie sky were watered down with the spreading pallor of his anxiety. April saw his pupils glaze over her, but felt as though he did not see her. Without a word, he moved past as though he were nothing more than autumn's final leaf. A lonely wind-swept vagabond fated to travel aimlessly, until its lifeless tissue-like fibers fell away to leave nothing but a dry skeletal husk, as the only sign summer had ever been more than a nebulous memory.

April fled.

She could not stand to be in that house anymore with its foundation crumbling away with every breath. Sorrow and guilt were everywhere. Their pain, their suffering, and everything they had been through had never left. It was an insidious venom. A toxin that had infiltrated so deeply that even the strongest of them had begun to flicker. She needed something, anything that would give her respite. A purifying poultice to press on her plaguing spirit.

Maybe that was why she wasn't surprised when in dawn's dusty glow she came to the place where it all began and found him there. Her angel, her refuge, and… Her love.

Her heart cried at how relieved she was to see him there kneeling, shell to her, before the vegetable bed containing the beans he had planted only a few days ago. The ground was still largely bare, but here and there was a tiny fleck of green amongst the black soil. They could not even be called sprouts yet, but they were alive. She slowly walked towards him, "Raph… I've been worried about you."

He didn't look up, "I find that hard to believe."

April kneeled beside him, and swallowed the jolt of fear she felt when he refused to meet her gaze, "Um ok… Let's try this again. Hey Raph, you've been missing for hours, and I've been up all night worrying about you. Now here's the part where you say, "Gee April I'm sorry I was just upset. I'm also a little tired and grumpy from not eating or sleeping, but you're awesome and I'm glad to see you.""

He neither laughed nor removed his eyes from the ground, "You think this is a joke?"

"I'm sorry for trying to lighten the mood. Geez…" she sighed, "Look Raph, I know I didn't side with you yesterday, but I really do get why you snapped at Donnie. I pretty much did the same thing to him, but I still need to apologize to you. I let you carry the burden for something that really wasn't your fault."

"That's it?"

She tilted her head in confusion unsure of what he had been expecting, "Uh yeah?"

"There's nothing else?"

"Well yeah… " April fidgeted, unnerved by his unnatural behaviour, "I mean… I really should have just told Donnie from the start how I was feeling. Instead I let you get in the middle of this whole mess, which I guess ended up pushing you over the edge."

His voice remained eerily quiet, "That's what you think happened?"

Fingernails slid along her now perspiring palms, which were clenched tightly in her lap, "Isn't it about Donatello? Because I…"

Her voice faded when his eyes finally rose to meet hers, but no longer were they soft. Instead they were a hard metallic green. An unfamiliar shade. A disturbing sight devoid of light, "It's about _everyone_."

April was perplexed. She knew Casey had once played a role, but now that it'd been days of him acting like his usual self, the red-head assumed Raphael would only care about her and Donatello, "Is it really?"

The turtle's frown deepened, "You know it is."

"No, I don't," April countered in a slight panic from feeling as though she had missed something very important, "I think you're just being a jerk. Throwing yourself a pity party because you can't deal with your feelings."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say because in response Raphael sniped sardonically, "Wow, those powers of deduction work wonders. No wonder you know what Donnie felt."

This comment left her fuming, "_Excuse me_?"

His tone softened a little in remorse, "That came out wrong."

"Well it still came out!" April was steadily becoming angrier, "Is that what this whole thing has been? A way for you to get revenge on me for so called "playing" with Donnie's feelings?"

He defended with equal animosity, "I told you I didn't mean to say it!"

"Then what are you trying to say Raph? That you didn't mean to say it, but were still thinking it?"

Raphael snapped, "I didn't mean to think or say it!"

"Surprise. Surprise." April rolled her eyes sarcastically, "What else is new?"

Under her glare he stood, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

April hissed at his attempt to intimidate her while rising to follow suite, "Like you don't know!"

He retaliated by standing to his full height and crowding into her space, "I'd rather hear your version."

The red-head used every bit of the inch she had on him as not to be cowed, "Don't you dare bully me Raphael!"

Clenching his fists, the first spark of his true anger emerged, "I'm not!"

Based on her heart pounding against her ribs, April had to object, "Yes you are! You do it to everyone!"

They stood glaring at each other in silence for several minutes. Until Raphael cursed, "Fuck."

Backing down, he looked away to mutter, "I don't believe this… Don was right. I am that story's duckling monster."

"Raph, only you would think that."

"Because it's true!"

April snapped, "You know what I think this is? I think you're scared Raphael. You are so busy trying to make yourself the bad guy that you just can't accept that someone can actually see the good in you. So you jump on every excuse that makes you look like a jerk."

He looked at her sharply, "You don't mean that."

That surprised her, "Of course I do! Why wouldn't I?"

It took all of April's strength not to quell under the darkness that pierced her from those green eyes. Raphael's voice took on an edge she did not think he could summon, "_You_ _thought I would have_ _drowned my own_ _brother_."

Blinking furiously, April tried to buy herself some time with her infamous cynicism while several pieces suddenly started connecting in her mind, "Oh… So… Beating him to a pulp under water was just you horsing around? I'd love to see you actually pissed."

Once again April realized too late her mistake. Raphael's eyes, if it were possible, darkened even more, "You really think that don't you?" He stepped away and shook his head mumbling, "I should have known better..." Before raising his voice, "See! This is why I have none of your earth crap. I can't let anything get close to me because the closer I get to something I care about, the more it burns under my touch!"

Trying to recover her fumble April tried to interject, "Come on Raph, that's not true…"

His fury only continued to grow, "I told you! I am only fire, and because of that I am cursed to destroy everything I have ever loved…" Then he turned away to whisper so April could just barely catch it, "even you."

Her mind was spinning. Did Raphael just say that he loved her? Then a horrific realization crept into her brain when she realized he had used the past tense. Full of dread she cried, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Raphael still did not meet her eyes as he uttered, "Some things are not mine to give."

In frustration at him avoiding the core of the matter, she gestured wildly, "I'm not asking you to give me anything, but at the very least, you need to be honest with yourself!"

He spun around to face her again, "And who did my honesty save? Did it save Leo from the Shredder? Did it save your father? IT SURE AS HELL DIDN'T SAVE MINE, AND IT HASN'T SAVED ME!"

April shouted back, "IT COULD SAVE YOU, IF YOU GAVE IT A CHANCE!"

"BEING HONEST GOT ME INTO THIS WHOLE DAMN MESS!"

"And what is _this_ exactly?" April seethed, "A round-about way of you breaking up with me?"

"We were never going together in the first place!"

She gaped at him wide-eyed to whisper, "_What?"_

Raphael folded his arms, and the instant before he looked away, April would later look back to realize his eyes had been full of hurt, "Never actually had the conversation."

"So all of this_,_" April's voice sounded unnatural even to her, but in that moment she had mistakenly interpreted his anguish as cruel nonchalance,_ "_meant _nothing_? _Do I mean nothing to you?_"

The being before her turned to face her. No longer was she met with her seraph. Instead, something entirely different had replaced him. An entity borne of sorrow and rejection whose voice she did not know, "If you don't know the answer to that by now then obviously we're both wasting our time."

Out of shock, she just gaped at him stupidly, but apparently her lack of response affirmed his fears, "Don't hurt yourself."

Trying to undo the damage she had done, she tried calling, "Raph…" but he did not even look at her. Instead he continued in that unfamiliar tone, "I was wrong. You care no more about me than you did about Don."

Raphael turned away and began to walk out of the clearing. In desperation she tried again, "Raph wait!"

He did not pause, "Hey, I get it. I'm a giant fucking turtle monster. What could you possibly love?"

Finally regaining some of her voice's former power she shouted, "WHY WON'T YOU JUST STOP AND LISTEN TO ME FOR TWO SECONDS?"

"WHY SHOULD I?" Despite his words, he did cease his movements and spun around, "You just automatically assumed I was going to kill my own brother. I know I lose it sometimes April, but I would NEVER do that!"

She walked towards him and placed a hand on his arm, "I never said any of that!"

April could not help but feel her eyes sting with tears when he flinched from her grasp, "Well you may as well have."

Cradling her hand as though it had been burned she cried, "What do you want me to say Raphael? I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you! Please just stop and think for a minute!"

He turned away, "A minute won't change anything."

"How do you know if you won't even try?"

"Because I've endured a lifetime of this April. A whole fucking lifetime. Trust me, Don's wounds will heal, but mine? Well how can they when there's nothing to fill the hole they left behind?"

And without another word he bolted.

April sunk to the ground. Her ears were ringing and her world felt as though it had been seared to ashes. How had she managed to screw this up too? How could she have failed to realize how damaged his heart actually was? She had failed him, and now she had lost him.

There, alone amidst the firestorm-ravaged garden, she stared at the soil where her angel had planted those tiny seeds, which foolishly dared to peek at such scorching chaos with such terribly fragile leaves.

There he had held her…

There he had told her he had never been more sure of anything in his life…

Raphael had been wrong. It was not him, but she who was the fire that would consume them all. Gut-wrenching sobs echoed throughout the clearing surrounding her in an inferno of grief. Soon all that would be left would be a black-hole of smouldering cinders.

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**A/N Just a note: I know Raph actually does lose it and tries to kill Mike in like every other rendition of TMNT (comics, 2k3, etc), but although he tackled Leo pretty good that one time, 2k12 Raph never actually tries to kill his bros. So I took it and played with it.**

**Anyway... So yeah… While I'm making you guys miserable anyway, I'm afraid we are coming to the end of "Love or Blood." Just a few more chapters to go people... **

**Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go hide in a corner and cry away my Raphril sorrow. :'(**

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**To my lovely reviewers:**

**Guest: There are no doubt several parallels going on here whether intended or not. I have tried to be unique while approaching this, but there are only so many archetypes… Still it's not always a bad thing if done properly =)**

**Terri: Yep Yep that was definitely the intention, which is good because I don't want to keep torturing poor Leo. **

**And yeah… I guess I royally failed at the whole onomatopoeia thing. *Head desk* I totally wrote that note after your first review XD cuz a whole lot is missed if one does not realize that ****_Lub Dub_**** was supposed to be the sounds of the heart beating. I didn't even think to use other sounds like Ba Thump or Da Dump because Lub Dub is what I learned in class… My bad… **

**On another note though I'm glad the second read through went better =)**

**Komnenid: I know every time I read Leo's chapters I feel all the feels =(**

**ThePastReliesOnMemories: Thank-you so much! I write for the sake of writing, but I still try to do a good job. Consequently, I'm always pumped when I get compliments like this one! And yes… Leo's chapters are probably somewhat sensitive to anyone who has been through something similar. I truly hope I've done such a complex topic justice and have come across in an emphatic and respectful manner. Also, you and me both. Every time there's a Raphril scene I feel a rush of hope XD**

**majishan: Mikey just cares so much and is going crazy with worry. Plus he's the kind of guy that wants to make everyone happy and so when it doesn't work out he has some trouble coping. Alas, what Leo's going through cannot be rushed.**


	20. Chapter 20: Truth

**A/N I do not own TMNT, but I am forever grateful for their existence.**

**I totally meant to get this chapter to you sooner after last week's cliff hanger, but then I remembered what a behemoth this chapter is. Oh and life (aka it was a ridiculous week at work) happened. Seriously though, this chapter is a beast! You are going to want to grab some tea (or your beverage of choice) and hunker down because you are in for a long and bumpy ride.**

**Thanks again for reading!**

* * *

Love or Blood

Chapter 20: Truth

"MEW!"

Pulling open the freezer door, Michelangelo felt his face strain from exhaustion as he summoned a small grin, "Hi to you too, Ice Cream Kitty."

The creepy creamy feline tilted her head in concern, "Meeerow."

The turtle before her sighed, "Aw man Icy K, what am I gonna do?"

"Meeeyaoooorrrr."

* * *

The youngest of the mutant turtles wished a lack of sleep was the worst of his worries. Usually when he went to visit his favourite pile of mutated goop, Michelangelo had little difficulty unloading his woes. This particular morning, he didn't even know where to begin.

His biggest concern of course regarded the eldest, Leonardo. It was well past the twenty-four hour mark since he was last sighted, and Michelangelo was practically beside himself with worry. The unease he felt before the rain started was nothing compared to what it was now. The youngest did not know what had happened, but whatever it was, had taken away the last remnant of his brother.

Before the storm began, several days ago, Michelangelo could at least have a conversation with this brother. It was a predominantly stilted and one-sided affair; nonetheless, it was still a form of interaction in which Leonardo at least acknowledged each participant's existence. The last few days, during or after retrieving his brother from the woods, had left the orange-clad turtle feeling more than a little unsettled.

His brother would look at him as though he weren't even there, and would blurt random things that were completely irrelevant to the subject at hand. Leonardo was seeing or hearing something that his baby brother couldn't. In the depths of those dark woods, just before sunset, said conversations with the ethereal had Michelangelo looking over his shoulder nervously more than he ever did while infiltrating any Kraang facility.

However, what scared the freckled turtle the most, was not the unseen presences, but the fact that with every passing day, his leader was becoming harder and harder to reach. After searching all night without a trace of the blue-clad terrapin, Michelangelo could not ignore the stretching and cramping in his anxious intestines that told him Leonardo was no longer in his reach at all.

He knew it had always been Leonardo's battle, his decision, his demon, but God, had Michelangelo desperately tried to help his brother. The youngest turtle could feel his brother's suffering, and so badly wanted to guide him back to the light. He could feel his confusion, shame, and sorrow, but everything he knew how to do, had no effect.

It was as a last resort that he had tried to confine Leonardo to the house. Fearing the rain would give the eldest hypothermia, thereby reducing him to a frozen corpse on the muddy forest floor, Michelangelo desperately attempted to keep his brother always in sight. Unfortunately, paired with the youngest turtle's inevitable need for sleep and his brother miraculously managing to retain of all his ninja techniques the one that allowed him to travel undetected, Michelangelo was fighting a losing battle. Try as he might, the freckled turtle could not keep up with Leonardo's stealth, and so every morning, Michelangelo would awaken with the farm perimeter having once again been breached.

The only remotely small consolation to the eldest's current disappearance – to whatever unknown whereabouts tickled his dark rumination's malevolent fantasies – was that with the final cessation of precipitation, said mutant reptile would at least not meet his end within the tempest's cold dark grasp. However, Michelangelo knew no sunshine would ever be complete without his brother there to experience it beside him.

Of course he was aware that there were other methods Leonardo could implement if he really decided to not come back. That single thought was probably the most terrifying the youngest brother had ever conceived.

The worst part? That he hadn't gotten to say goodbye to the real Leonardo, the big brother he hadn't seen since the day the invasion had begun. If the darkness succeeded in consuming him now, there would never again be any more chances to uncover that lost brother, and there would never be another opportunity to tell him what he meant to Michelangelo.

Yes, he had been their leader, but he had been so much more. If the darkness won, he'd never get to tell this brother how he had been their strength, their determination, and their morality. How he drove them to be better in not just ninjutsu, but in all things.

If he didn't come back, Michelangelo wouldn't ever again get to see his brother geek out over a "Space Heroes" episode. He wouldn't ever be able to lord over his Plus One Ring of Awesomeness while Leonardo never failed to humour his little brother in his dramatic displays of envy over not having such a wondrous artifact in his possession. He would never get to draw on his face or shell again. He'd never get to prank him again.

He'd never get to wake him in the middle of the night. No matter the rhyme or reason, be it nightmare or thunder, would Leonardo ever turn his baby brother away, but if he died out there in the woods, Michelangelo would never again awaken to find his blue-clad guardian waiting patiently to wipe away his tears.

If that happened

That would be it.

It would be over.

He'd never get to say goodbye

He'd never get to tell him how much he needed him

He'd never get to tell him how much he loved him

And _always_ would.

* * *

"Meeeyaoooorrrr."

"I know I haven't slept."

"Meeeeew."

"Well you try sleeping when it's all you can think about!"

"Merow?"

* * *

Nonetheless, Michelangelo's nocturnal combing of every inch of the North Hampton woods had not been entirely in vain. True, he didn't succeed in finding Leonardo's location, but he had managed to stumble across Raphael in the wee hours of the morning – if he had a watch he would have perhaps been more exact. Apparently, there were many restless turtle souls in the forest that night.

Although the youngest mutant had not been relieved of his ever-growing anxiety regarding Leonardo, Michelangelo was not displeased at the second oldest reptile's appearance. Raphael's rapid departure – after ripping Donatello a new one – had not been unexpected. By this point in their brotherly relationship, Michelangelo knew when Raphael had one of his outbursts – or temperamental turtle tantrums as he secretly dubbed it – often the best way of handling the aftermath was to give the red-clad reptile some space to work out the rest of his frustrations. However, this time, Michelangelo had to admit, he found it more disturbing.

It wasn't the fact that Raphael had pushed Donatello under the surface in his fury to land as many blows as he could that had made it different. They were turtles after all, and despite their drastic mutations, they still had managed to retain several of their original adaptations. Obviously, they could still withdraw into their shells, but like any "normal" tortoise, when they were not curled up defensively within their bony protective armour, there was a lot of extra space for their lungs to utilize. Consequently, although Michelangelo held the record – thirty-two minutes and fifty-eight seconds like a turtle do – each terrapin could easily hold their breath for more than fifteen minutes. If without warning or under stress, it would naturally be less, but as a result, all four mutants had many fond – if slightly painful – memories of many aquatic skirmishes. So even though April had been concerned over Donatello potentially drowning, Michelangelo knew this brother had more than several minutes to go before he even made it close to the critical zone.

Besides, it wasn't exactly abnormal for any of the mutants to fight. Naturally, as all brothers do, the four turtles regularly kept each other's egos in check. When one was getting a little too cocky or conceited, their fellow brothers were always quick to notice, and even faster to knock said sibling down a couple of pegs. However, this current conflict had been building for days, and was not such a simple affair.

No, the physical aspect of the fight was not what disturbed Michelangelo. It was the way in which Raphael had been provoked, and therein lay much of the youngest turtle's present frustration. True, he did not like seeing Donatello beaten within an inch of his life, but Michelangelo could not help feeling as though this particular brother had marginally deserved it.

Admittedly, the last few days had not been Michelangelo's best in terms of tuning into his brothers' feelings. The youngest was too busy borderline-obsessing over Leonardo's wellbeing, and consequently had not possessed his usual pragmatic approach when it came his brothers' emotions. Michelangelo simply had not realized to what extent Donatello had been suffering, and perhaps this was why he had failed to intervene sooner. True, there were the carefully selected jabs thrown here and there, but understandably, considering the circumstances, Michelangelo believed the comments to be no more than mere frivolous slurs made to sting but not to mark.

Additionally, the blue-eyed turtle suddenly had found himself experiencing Donatello as a more consistent companion. They never talked about anything profound, yet somehow, in his ever-strong optimism, the orange-clad mutant had even let himself believe that his older brother's actions over the last few days were all a result of Donatello's own concern regarding Leonardo or even Michelangelo himself. After all, the youngest had found his bo-wielding brother more often in his company during those few rainy days than he had in over a month; however, after witnessing Donatello's callous display at the lake, Michelangelo simultaneously recognized feelings of both animosity and betrayal oozing to the surface.

Foolishly thinking said brother had come to realize that the feud with Casey over April had only put a wedge between him and his brothers, Michelangelo had believed the purple-clad reptile had finally gained some perspective. Deep down, the smallest turtle had even stupidly hoped that maybe for once Donatello was trying to be there for him instead of the other way around. After catching that subtle – yet undeniable – smirk on Donatello's smug face when April swam over to him, Michelangelo had no doubt that his brother had only been using him, and frankly, he was starting to get more than a little pissed towards any member contributing to the whole inanity of this never-ending melodrama.

* * *

"Merow?"

"How can I not?

"Mew. Mew."

"I know Ice Cream Kitty, but no matter where I go these days, I can't escape."

"Meeeyao."

* * *

Michelangelo didn't know how it happened, but somehow in the course of their time hidden away at the farm, the party had begun to lose perspective. Leonardo obviously had an excuse – which was a problem in and of itself. The others however, did not – and some were definitely worse off than others.

Of them all, Raphael was the only one who had managed to maintain his physical prowess. Michelangelo and April were probably next in line, but even the youngest had to admit that he had really been slacking the last couple of weeks. Still, at least he had been more-or-less keeping up with his ninjutsu. Donatello and Casey had fallen off the training wagon months ago.

Although they still exercised fairly regularly to at least remain physically fit, Donatello had especially neglected his endurance and strength. Meanwhile, Casey continued to complacently bank on his tried and true street moves. Michelangelo had no doubt that there was definite value in the vigilante's method, but if they were ever going to get back and reclaim New York, he knew it would take more than some fancy stick work from both members of their team.

Therein lay Michelangelo's greatest frustration. Yes, Leonardo had him out of his shell with worry. Yes, Casey and Donatello's training negligence was displeasing. Yes, the whole everyone-loves-April thing was exhausting. However, what Michelangelo really was becoming truly angry about – to the point where he was practically downright resentful – was that somehow, over their time in North Hampton, the others had lost sight of why they had retreated there in the first place. The key word being: "retreated."

They hadn't surrendered, they hadn't fled, and they hadn't been captured. They had retreated. Meaning that they had every intention of coming back to fight another day once they sufficiently recovered.

Of course, Leonardo's physical injuries had delayed the process, but while he was recovering, they should have been training. Hell, "training" didn't even cover what they should have been doing. They should have been preparing and bettering themselves; so that as soon as all their injuries were healed, they could go back and reclaim what was rightfully theirs. First they would find Splinter – another point of contention since Michelangelo was the only one who believed their Sensi was still alive – and then, after locating Karai, they would make sure both Kraang and Shredder rued the day they ever dared to cross the New York bred mutants' – including one Casey Jones – path.

Yet, somehow, they had gotten lost. Even Michelangelo himself wasn't where he wanted to be, and wasn't entirely certain how he could find his way back. Up until a few days ago, Raphael too had been in the same boat as the youngest – not entirely sure how he was going to rally the team – but still willing to try. Then, as the rain set in, something started to shift in the green-eyed terrapin. Michelangelo had little doubt that a certain plotting sibling had something to do with it. His beliefs were confirmed well into the night following the occurrence at the lake.

* * *

"Meeeyao."

"I have tried talking about it! No one wants to talk about it!"

"Meeeyaoooorrrr."

"No one listens to me anymore anyway."

"Meeeeew!"

* * *

It was difficult to see any clear detail under that thin sliver of moonlight, but out of the gloom, Michelangelo had caught a glimpse of light-coloured fabric. Knowing it had to belong to one of his brothers, the turtle crept through the underbrush to emerge in a small clearing. Even in the darkness, the youngest instantly recognized the owner to that bulky silhouette, "Raph! There you are!"

Based on the tread marks through the cool dewy grass, his older brother had been pacing in this secluded location for some time. Undoubtedly, the grimness of his voice mirrored his restless thoughts, "It's the middle of the night Mike. Go back to bed."

If that was the best argument Raphael could offer, Michelangelo was going nowhere soon, "I'm not leaving without you."

With a shrug the larger turtle resumed his pacing, "Suit yourself."

"Uh…" The unwillingness to even remotely try and convince the orange-clad turtle to clear off disarmed Michelangelo. He was left gaping as the minutes dragged on while Raphael continued his endless circling, trapped inside his own mind. When it was apparent the elder was not about to engage in conversation any time soon, Michelangelo stepped in front of the pacing turtle, "Hey…" The black look Raphael gave him enticed the smaller turtle to step back out of the path as he asked, "You ok?"

Pausing mid-stride the turtle sighed, "Not really," before continuing.

The forlorn sound of defeat in his big brother aided Michelangelo in regaining the courage to obstruct Raphael's path once more, "You know what Don said in that story isn't true right?"

Thankfully, Raphael was less aggressive to this interruption, "Isn't it?"

He took his brother's offering and ran with it, "Bro, you know Don just made that up to piss you off because he's still upset about this whole April thing."

"Doesn't change that I pounded the shit out of him."

Based on that charming reaction, the freckled turtle attempted a different strategy, "I know… but you're sorry aren't you?"

Raphael snapped, "Obviously." Michelangelo frowned, he felt like he was pulling teeth. Every one or two word answer leaving them both unsatisfied. Raphael only made it more painful by delaying the inevitable and refusing to let his little brother access to the root of the problem.

Michelangelo again, "So…?"

"I proved him right."

Four words that time. Just a little more digging and his brother's dam definitely would break. Not. "Raph you just fell into his trap. You didn't prove anything."

"Yes I did! It took both you and Casey to get me off!"

That wasn't the response Michelangelo had expected. He thought Raphael would dive right into how stupidly Donatello had been dealing with the April issue, "Well duh, of course it took both of us. You're kind of a tank dude."

He was further surprised when Raphael silently backed away, "…"

Michelangelo tried to piece together what his brother was feeling, but he needed to be careful. He did not want Raphael to bolt again. Stating the obvious seemed to be the best way he could buy some time, "Come on Raph. You can't be upset about being bigger than us. You've always been way stronger."

He was glad Raphael remained where he was, but the silence was not very reassuring, "Besides I thought you liked it? Isn't that why you lift weights all the time?"

"That was before."

Finally an answer. It was a muttered answer, but an answer nonetheless. Naturally, Michelangelo poked it, "Before what?"

Of course, it had to be a sleeping bear and not a snoozing bunny that he prodded. Raphael snarled, "Before Donnie pointed out that I was a monster duckling! You, Leo, and Don… Then there's me…"

Still the pain was evident underneath the bared teeth. Although it was slowly becoming clearer, Michelangelo was not convinced that he understood Raphael's point fully. However, if the freckled reptile's gut was right, which it usually was, he needed to try and nip this dark sapling in the bud before it could spread further, "What are you talking about? Ok you're stronger, but Donnie and Leo are both still taller than you. Yeah we're different, but we're still four peas in a pod, four strings to a quartet or… or four turtles to a soup! Wait, maybe not that last one…"

The comment fell on deaf ears. Raphael's voice was back to sounding forlorn, "You're wrong. I'm just a screw-up. A big stupid screw-up."

Michelangelo was not ready to admit defeat, "Ok first of all, there's no way I'm smarter than you. That's my turf bro."

"You're plenty smart Mikey."

He did appreciate Raphael's rare bit of praise, "Why thank-you," Nevertheless, it was time to pull his brother out of his funk, "But we're not talking about me, we're talking about you. I don't know what's got you so in the dumps, but you're no screw-up."

Raphael was nowhere near convinced, "Then why did April go to Donnie? Why did she think I was going to drown him?"

Michelangelo rolled his eyes, "Dude you were beating on him in the water…"

"We're turtles Mikey! You and I both know Don can hold his breath for fifteen minutes no sweat."

Michelangelo resisted from taking this moment to gloat about his record breath – a thirty-two minutes and fifty-eight second feat of awesomeness – in favour of pointing out that there were still many things their human friends still did not know about them, "Well yeah. But does _April_ know that?"

Raphael gestured desperately, "That shouldn't matter! The point is she thought I would _kill_ my own _brother_!"

The orange-clad turtle did not respond for a moment. Instead, he valiantly tried to understand how Raphael's thoughts – admittedly not always organized logically, but at least usually had some kind of emotional hierarchy – were going, "Um… Ok…"

Raphael's eyes glimmered in pained frustration at Michelangelo's lack-luster response, "Ain't it obvious? April thinks I'm a menace."

There it was. Tucked away in the obvious, yet Michelangelo could not help but respond flatly, "No she doesn't."

His brother adamantly retorted, "Yes she does."

It was ridiculous. Yet somehow, his big brother had gone from believing April liked him to thinking he was now some kind of a hideous beast in her eyes, "Raph, trust me. There's no way April would ever think that about you."

His heart choked upon seeing the sheer amount of self-loathing twisting on the face of the brother before him, "I thought so too… But I was wrong…"

"Bro…" Then, just when Michelangelo thought they were finally making some progress, Raphael spun on the spot and sped to the edge of the clearing. The smaller turtle ran and grabbed his brother's shoulder, "Wait Raph!"

Raphael then pierced Michelangelo with a look that he had only rarely seen in his elder sibling. His irises had hardened and no moonlight dared break into their dark metallic realm, "_You didn't see her eyes_."

The freckled turtle dropped his hand, and was helpless to watch as another brother disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

"Meeeeew!"

"I know you do, but no offense, you can't exactly help.

"Meeeyaoooorrrr."

"Sorry… I know we can't keep going like this."

"Meeeeuuu…"

"Um Mikey…"

The freckled turtle turned away from the freezer to see Casey Jones looking at him oddly from the entryway leading to the hall. When Michelangelo didn't respond immediately the teenager spoke, "Uh… Am I interrupting something?"

Michelangelo rolled his eyes at the lame joke and closed the door on his creamy pet, "Come on dude, I'm not that creepy."

Casey waved his hands in denial, "Hey did I say that? No. Did I ask that? No." Michelangelo saw Donatello enter the kitchen as Casey's rambling continued. "Hey speaking of asking, do you know why April just sprinted out of the house and into the woods alone?"

The olive-skinned turtle still bore evidence to the skirmish from the day before: his cheek was stitched roughly, the lid above said cheek was swollen, but after about a week, he would probably be no worse for wear. The aforementioned reptile immediately froze upon the vigilante's comment regarding April, "She did what?"

The younger mutant frowned, but said nothing as Casey turned to the elder, "Chill Don, it was like five minutes ago. I saw her from my bedroom window."

When Casey asked where April had run off to, Michelangelo's guts had shriveled. He should have spoken to her when he had the chance. However, the darkness of the night had dug its claws into the young turtle as well, and it had not wanted to immediately relinquish its latest prey. Of course she had fled the farmhouse. Hadn't he done the same thing numerous times himself? To earn just a few minutes asylum from the sheer insanity of it all? Now she would find something new, but that something was Raphael. In his current state of being, Michelangelo knew what was awaiting April and it left him cursing, "Oh shell… That stupid moron…"

Donatello tilted his head in question, but Michelangelo saw that his eyes already knew the answer, "Who are you talking about?"

The youngest could not prevent several sparks of anger from igniting within his voice, "_You know_ who I'm talking about_."_

His brother responded in that infuriatingly calm tone that aggravated all of his brothers. Regardless, the younger saw Donatello's guilt as he fell for his trap, "It's not my problem if Raph screws this up."

Michelangelo replied coldly, "Feeling guilty Dee?"

A flicker of realization briefly passed through Donatello's eyes, "Why would you think that?"

Casey snorted, "Dude, you just fell for the oldest trick in the book. No one mentioned Raph, but you brought him up."

Flustered Donatello snapped, "Because we were all thinking it! Like I said, it's not my fault if this turns sour because of him."

Michelangelo knew he was on the brink of losing it himself, "Oh yes it is!"

The elder gave the younger a condescending look, "_Oh_ _really, Michelangelo_? Please enlighten me on how I managed to have any influence whatsoever on our brother's oh-so-charming demeanor."

That did it. Michelangelo of course felt anger as much as the next turtle, but usually his duration in wrath-ville was very short. Instead, he typically continued right into sorrow-central, forcing his rage to quickly fizzle out under drenching tears.

Today, was not one of those days.

Jolts of his ire transformed his eyes into a shocking electric blue, "ARE YOU KIDDING ME? YOU'RE THE ONE THAT SET HIM UP! You've been guilt-frying him _for days_ – hoping to manipulate his mind into upside-down brain noodle soup! And guess what? YOUR PLAN WORKED! Now our brother is convinced he's some kind of monster!"

Donatello balked slightly under Michelangelo's surprising outburst, but when he spoke his voice continued to be filled with composure, "You're being melodramatic Mikey. Besides, is it _my problem _if he takes things too literally?"

However, the orange-clad reptile was just getting started. He had had enough with this inanity, and today it was getting addressed. He latched onto Donatello's wrist with an iron grip, "It's your problem now. Come on!"

Finally losing some of his cool, the elder brother attempted to pry off the younger's constricting green digits, "Let go Michelangelo! I'm not going anywhere!"

The blue-eyed turtle tightened his grip, but knew he needed assistance. He hoped Casey had indeed recovered from April's rejection as much as his behaviour suggested; otherwise without the hockey player's support, an already exhausting day – never mind that it was not even nine yet – would verge on the downright unbearable, "Cas-"

Casey Jones didn't even wait for the words to leave the Michelangelo's lips. The expression on the human's face indicated that he too was quickly wearing out his last nerve. The older turtle protested as the vigilante added his strength, "Hey!"

The ice jock did not ease his hold as he glanced at his ally, "Don't worry Mikey, I got your back." Then he turned to glare at his prisoner, "He's right Don. You need to fix this."

Donatello continued to struggle, "How can you say that? He betrayed you too!"

Proceeding through the doorway the human responded, "No he didn't. Yeah I was pissed at first," He met the purple-clad turtle's wide-eyed stare, and Michelangelo caught a flash of remorse cross Casey's face. Just as Michelangelo should have intervened sooner, Casey too had failed to approach Donatello the instant it became clear that the brown-eyed turtle was struggling against such corrupting inner turmoil, but now was the time to make things right, "But mostly, I was pissed at myself for not seeing it sooner. Not just in April, but in Raph. I mean what kind of knob doesn't notice when his best friend has the hots for someone?"

They were now dragging a more-deflated Donatello towards the woods. Casey directed the trio towards the garden, which was where he had seen April disappear. Michelangelo interjected with a voice still simmering with subtle anger, however he was impressed with his human friend, "Don't feel bad Case," he pierced Donatello with his stare, "apparently, _brothers miss it too._"

The purple-clad turtle defended, "B-but that's all the more reason why Raph shouldn't have made a move!"

"Except love doesn't work that way Don. Look, you just need to accept things for what they are and that sometimes no matter what you do, they are just not in your control." Casey sighed then proceeded with a tinge of melancholy, "Raph and April got together not to spite you. They got together because they like each other. We just weren't meant to be with April."

When neither reptile responded, the human continued solemnly, "You're _a_ _friend_ and _a_ _brother_, Don. So for the sake of your friendship with April – hell for the sake of brotherly love – shouldn't you just let it go so they can be happy?"

Donatello gave the vigilante a sharp look, and Casey narrowed his eyes as he finished, "Donnie, did you ever think that you're the one betraying them because you refuse to let them be? I mean what kind of guy keeps a couple apart and makes them miserable just so that he can be kind of happy? No offense dude, but I don't think that's the kind of guy you want to be."

Michelangelo was more than awed that somehow Casey had managed to figure all that out for himself. Apparently the many moments when the youngest turtle had spied the vigilante looking out into the rain as though in silent thought – had been moments of _actual_ thought. Turned out, despite everyone's assumptions, Casey Jones maybe wasn't quite so immature after all.

Donatello opened his mouth to speak, when a familiar voice sliced through the underbrush, "If you don't know the answer to that by now then obviously we're both wasting our time."

Michelangelo pressed his finger to his lips, "Guys, shhh!"

The ice in Raphael's voice left each member of the trio wide-eyed, "Don't hurt yourself."

April whined, "Raph…"

"I was wrong. You care no more about me than you did about Don."

Donatello gaped, "He thinks she doesn't care about him?"

Michelangelo and Casey simultaneously raised their eyebrows in a silent _"_this is totally_ your _fault_" _gesture, leaving Donatello with little doubt as to how they felt about the matter at hand_._ Their attention abruptly returned to the arguing couple when April cried, "Raph wait!"

"Hey, I get it. I'm a giant fucking turtle monster. What could you possibly love?"

The three hidden individuals were stunned into silence as the tempest raged before them. Michelangelo felt his heart tear in all directions. His first impulse was to smack Donatello upside the head – for what they were witnessing in the garden, was the consequence of his selfish scheming. However, part of him also felt a profound amount of pity towards his purple-clad brother. Clearly, Donatello must have been in a substantial amount of emotional pain in order for him to lash out in such damaging manipulation, and so, Michelangelo felt tremendous guilt for allowing his brother to venture onto this cruel dark path in the first place.

Suddenly, the youngest found himself looking into a dark abyss. A line between light and dark. Somewhere in that black oblivion his three older brothers wandered – their souls' light lost within themselves. April's shrill distress shattered his vision, "WHY WON'T YOU JUST STOP AND LISTEN TO ME FOR TWO SECONDS?"

"WHY SHOULD I?" Despite his words, Raphael did cease his movements before spinning around, "You just automatically assumed I was going to kill my own brother. I know I lose it sometimes April, but I would NEVER do that!"

The red-head walked over to place her hand on the red-clad turtle's arm, "I never said any of that!"

Raphael flinched from her grasp, "Well you may as well have."

Clasping her scorned hand, April cried, "What do you want me to say Raphael? I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you! Please just stop and think for a minute!"

Raphael turned back to the forest, "A minute won't change anything."

April's voice sounded like a tiny injured bird, "How do you know if you won't even try?"

"Because I've endured a lifetime of this April. A whole fucking lifetime. Trust me, Don's wounds will heal, but mine? Well how can they when there's nothing to fill the hole they left behind?"

For a moment there was silence as Raphael disappeared into the woods. Michelangelo's senses told him when his brother was well out of ear shot. He then turned to face his companions when wails of anguish suddenly pierced the silence. Michelangelo and Casey both stared daggers at Donatello who quivered at the sound.

The only vague, miniscule silver lining that Michelangelo could find as his piercing blue eyes stabbed into his brother, was that finally some tiny inkling of remorse had managed to appear on his features when he whispered, "What have I done?"

Casey unmercifully hissed, "What Don? Aren't you enjoying the fruits of your labour?"

The usually verbose terrapin stuttered, "I… I didn't know… I didn't mean…"

Hearing his brother admission of what he had done gave Michelangelo hope. Perhaps not all of his siblings were so lost after all. Nonetheless, it was time for an intervention. Michelangelo refused to see either Raphael or Donatello follow in Leonardo's footprints. It was time to force them to look inside themselves and face the truth.

Meanwhile, the vigilante seethed, "Didn't mean what? For this to happen? Because I'm pretty sure that's exactly what you were hoping to happen."

Donatello stood and began to walk towards April, "Then let me fix it."

The time had come. Michelangelo grabbed him, "No."

Out of shock, the elder did not fight his captor this time, "What?"

Michelangelo nodded at the human, "Casey will take care of April."

Both Donatello and Casey appeared slightly unsure of the cold command Michelangelo had assumed. However, Casey had proclaimed himself to be the youngest turtle's ally and so he saluted, "On it chief," before entering the clearing.

At Casey's departure, Michelangelo continued to speak in the same tone that before now, he had not thought himself capable, "Donatello, you are coming with me. We are going to find Raphael, and you are going to fix this."

Donatello's jaw unhinged at the transformation overtaking the brother before him, but when said smaller turtle narrowed his eyes, the elder did not hesitate to obediently follow him into the forest.

For several minutes, Michelangelo's mind churned in silence as he ran. He was not used to such a visceral, all-consuming feeling, and found himself beginning to understand why Raphael and Leonardo were always so uptight. Evidently, Donatello was either so overwhelmed by guilt and/or so reluctant to provoke Michelangelo's ire that somehow the slower reptile managed to keep in stride despite the more than brisk pace. Perhaps that was why only fifteen minutes later, the two youngest brothers had managed to catch sight of their red-clad elder resting in a clearing beside a steady creek.

When Raphael spied them, he prepared to spring back into a run. Michelangelo ordered, "Raph stop!"

He had not hesitated to hide the command in his shout, and apparently it had left enough of an impression to keep the green-eyed turtle in place. Michelangelo continued to project an aura of dominance as he approached his elder brother with a meek Donatello in tow, "You two need to talk."

Although Raphael had been temporarily disarmed by his baby brother's new found attitude, he still retained much of his previous fury, "PISS OFF MIKEY!"

Heedless of Raphael's intimidating size advantage, Michelangelo stood his ground to retaliate, "NO! YOU PISS OFF!"

Obviously torn between amusement and shock at his brother's new daring spunk, Raphael smirked, "First off, you told me to stop. Second off, where'd you get the shell to say that to me?" He nodded to Donatello, "Maybe you can order Donnie around, but in case you haven't noticed," He stepped forward to loom over Michelangelo, "You are at a disadvantage baby bro."

For the first time since challenging his brother, Michelangelo felt his mercurial resolve drip beads of cold fear into his veins. He swallowed, but maintained his position, not daring to let electric blue break away from blazing green, "Fine. Go ahead. Beat me up, but even if you kick my shell a hundred times, I'll keep coming back."

Raphael leaned his face closer, putting it within inches of Michelangelo's, and mockingly raised an eye ridge, "Yeah? What's so important about him," his jade eyes flicked to Donatello and back, "That you'd willingly let me wax your shell?"

Michelangelo could feel Raphael's stale hot breath on his face and continued to become more and more aware of his smaller stature. However, even as his bowls shriveled in terror he plowed on, "It's about you. It's about him. It's about me. It's about all of us Raphael. You guys have all forgotten why we came here."

His brother snorted in his face, but mercifully, pulled back ever so slightly, "We didn't have a choice Mike. We had nowhere else to go."

The younger valiantly shook his head, "There's always a choice Raph. We could have surrendered. We could have fought until we fell defeated. We could have fled – never to show our faces to the light of day again. Instead we _retreated_."

Raphael frowned and straightened up to fold his arms, "So what? We still ran with our tails between our legs."

Michelangelo released a breath, immensely relieved Raphael had withdrew some of the tension. Now, the younger turtle might actually live to see another day, "Maybe, but we left with every intention of coming back. We'd heal, train harder, and would return to reclaim our city! Wasn't that the plan?"

Now that there was no longer a nerve-wracking battle of wills, Donatello stepped forward, "That's still the plan Mikey."

Raphael nodded solemnly, but Michelangelo shook his head vehemently, "No. Guys, we've been here for months. Summer's around the corner, and the only one of us who has even tried to take training seriously is Raph."

The elder shrugged, "Not my fault you guys are slackers."

Donatello glared, "Excuse me for wasting all that time trying to recreate the retro-mutagen so we can turn everyone back to normal!"

"Bros! Don't you see?" Michelangelo waved in exasperation, "Every one of us is at fault! We're supposed to be supporting and pushing each other to improve" he pointedly looked at both brothers, "not tearing at each other's throats! Even worse, we're losing Leo guys, and if we don't have him we may as well just throw in the towel!"

Donatello questioned, "You didn't bring him home last night?"

"I couldn't find him!"

Raphael's eyes hardened, "So he never came back? What the hell Mike!? Why didn't you say something?"

Michelangelo bristled, "DON'T YOU THINK I TRIED? I've tried everything, but nothing's working!" The younger's rage once again bared its teeth, "AND NEITHER ONE OF YOU SHOULD BE ON MY CASE! YOU'VE BEEN SO BUSY FIGHTING OVER APRIL THAT YOU'VE COMPLETELY MISSED WHAT'S BEEN GOING ON!"

Both brothers stared incredulously at the wrath-filled shelled beast before them. Neither knowing what to say. Both lost in their own shame and guilt. Michelangelo suddenly threw up his hands, "You know what? I'm not wasting my time anymore. Either you two figure this out or you can roam around in this – this _purgatory_ forever." In response to their raised eye ridges he snapped, "Yes, guys I know what it means," Before returning to the topic of focus with new-found fervour, "I'm not going to let my fears, my jealousy, my anger, or anything else beat me. Besides, I have more important things to do like save a planet from a bunch of squishy pink brains and a walking kitchen utensil!"

Then without further ado, Michelangelo stormed over to the creek mumbling obscenities under his breath, but still positioned himself so that he would not miss a word of the exchange he hoped to hear – or so help him – in the immediate future. For several moments the two remaining turtles stood in awkward – and still slightly stunned – silence before Donatello finally broke the ice, "So uh…"

Michelangelo subtly repositioned himself so that he could see his brothers from the corner of his eye. Raphael still bore his customary frown. Understandably, Donatello kicked the earth nervously as he muttered, "We… Or rather… I kind of just overheard you and April."

Raphael's reaction was immediate and ferocious as he took a step into Donatello's space, "Then what are you doing here for? Go collect your _prize_."

A pained look appeared on the purple-clad turtle's face, "She's not a prize."

The red-clad turtle sneered, "Huh. Could have fooled me."

Michelangelo was almost shocked out of shell when Donatello stepped towards Raphael to place a hand on his shoulder, "And you're not a monster."

Apparently Raphael was just as shaken by his typically reserved brother's action for all he could do was frown stonily at Donatello, "…"

Causing said turtle to stutter on even more anxiously, "D-Don't look at me like that! It's the truth! I only told you that to get under your shell Raph. I just wanted April so badly… I… I didn't stop to think."

Finally the edges of Raphael's mouth flickered, "What? You not thinking? I must be dreaming."

Donatello had noticed Raphael's mood shift. Becoming calmer, while not losing an ounce of his sincerity, he continued, "I'm serious. I didn't stop to think that maybe April and I never hooked up because she never actually _wanted_ me. And I definitely didn't stop and think that you would feel the same deep way about her as she felt about you."

Michelangelo's heart felt like screaming when Raphael looked dejectedly away, "Well good thing you didn't waste the brain space. She doesn't like me."

Then Donatello truly began to show the authenticity behind his actions through his words, "You know that's not true."

Raphael rolled his eyes, but even those had softened a little, "Oh and you do? Last time I checked you weren't much of an expert on April's feelings."

"That's because last time, I never bothered to look."

Both Raphael and Michelangelo needed a few seconds after that comment. "Wow. Blind and thoughtless." Raphael finally responded shaking his head in disbelief, "You're really slipping Donnie."

Now that Donatello had found his resolve, he was not to about to lose it to any distraction, humour or otherwise, "Come on Raph, just listen to me. Trust me. This time, _I know_. April never looked at me, Casey, or any of us the way she looks at _you_."

Raphael's voice was quietly sorrowful, "Because I'm a monster."

Without hesitation Donatello cut him off, "No. It's because she loves you."

Michelangelo was now fully gawking at his two older brothers without a drop of embarrassment as Raphael took his turn to stutter, "L-love?"

Donatello gave a small wistful grin, "Yeah Raph. In the kitchen yesterday, swimming, even when you were both spitting fire just now. She looks at you like… Like you're an angel. Like she'd never seen a sunrise, never felt winter's first snowflakes, never smelt autumn's crispness, until she met you."

Every turtle present was positively blushing at Donatello's attempt to sound poetic on his older brother's behalf. After a moment, Raphael managed to find his voice, "You serious?"

Michelangelo could not help but throw his piece in, "Dude, it's totally obvious to everyone but you."

Another melancholy look graced Donatello's features as he murmured, "And you look at her the same way."

The red-clad reptile cursed while pinching between his eyes, "Shit… I'm such an idiot."

Michelangelo – his frustration and worry washed away in the creek's current – sauntered over to his brothers, "Don't worry bro, it runs in the family."

Donatello's grin lost some of its sobriety, "It's true. I'm the biggest idiot of them all."

"No way Don. That title is definitely mine."

Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo all spun on the spot simultaneously shouting, "LEO!"

Michelangelo practically javelined himself into his eldest brother's arms, "You're back!"

The youngest turtle felt tears crest his eyes at the feeling of Leonardo's warm and very alive breath of his shoulder, "Yeah Mikey I'm back. I'm finally back."

* * *

**A/N Oh the feels! :,) **

**I know we saw a bit of a different side to Michelangelo in this chapter, but I think it shows how he's grown through this experience. I know he's fictional, but I'm proud of him.**

**I also played with the format a bit to help keep the flow/keep the chapter's sheer density more manageable. **

* * *

**To my lovely reviewers:**

**Mr.E: Yeah… The "Love or Blood" verse is currently one filled with much drama and angst, but hopefully only the good kind ;) And yes, I'm afraid the end is near, but all good things must come to an end I suppose. Plus, although I've loved writing this fic, I would hate to ruin it by dragging it on unnecessarily.  
PS. The LARP episode totally made my life! And although I have so many mixed feelings about "Slash and Destroy," Leo drinking tea definitely helped ease the sting.  
PPS. It's on my profile page, but in my Strength 'verse the stories run in the following order: Pen Name, Strength, Fear, Homecoming, Commission, and finally Starry Night. Thanks for commenting on Commission! I definitely intend to write more heartfelt and sincere works. Methinks the chapter above is one such piece =)**

**Terri: I'm not sure why fanfiction did that… but on the plus side somehow it magically reappeared from the depths of cyber space! Yay!  
I'm so glad this chapter is getting such good reception. The last few chapters have been filled with so much angst and drama, I was worried about it slipping into cheese-coated soap-opera-ness. Plus, the chapter hurt me so much to write... The feels! The dialogue – always my nemesis… -_- Still, April, like all of us, is not perfect, and it's not fair for Raph to always be the one pinned with the blame. Yes, he screws up royally much of the time, but arguments take two. Anger comes from unresolved/unmeant emotional needs, which both are definitely experiencing (well actually the entire household is to some extent or another). **

**kamilaloveboysloveyai: I know… :,(**

**majishan: *Sigh* That's the problem with fire…**

**ThePastReliesOnMemories: I know so much drama and angst, but hopefully only it's the good kind ;) **

**TheWinterMe: Awesome! I am glad to hear it because I spent sooooo much time on their dialogue. I must have rewrote it a billion times and had several word documents of basically the same script just reordered because I wanted to get it just right… Guess that makes me a sadist too – being so cruel to my characters and planning out their demise through angst-filled dialogue ;)**

**Komnenid: Ah yes Princess Peach… She did get in trouble an awful lot didn't she?  
Oh dude… It's so hard because I want to let you guys know what will happen but I don't want to ruin it and then I want to submit the chapters sooner but I'm a perfectionist and compulsively obsess over each one so then I make you wait and the whole cycle repeats and repeats… -_- Also life happens. Apparently I cannot just write fanfiction all day… But soon! So very soon!**

**Guest: Bwahaha. I know I'm a jerk. At least a few of the loose ends have been tied up in the above chapter. Obviously Raphril is not one of them, but hey I gotta keep a few eggs until the end right?**


	21. Chapter 21: A Guide in the Rain

**A/N I do not own TMNT, but I am forever grateful for their existence. **

**Just looked at my notes at the bottom. Apparently I was quite chatty when I wrote them...**

* * *

Love or Blood

Chapter 21: A Guide in the Rain

Leonardo stared down at the words before him.

A cluster of lines, carefully arranged to form shapes and patterns, had made him pause. Even with the star mere inches from his throat, somehow the tactician, who still resided somewhere deep inside his forgotten core, had found a way through that empty abyss to move his fingers.

To drag them through the earth. To leave one final mark. To remember one last memory.

To a time when he had led

Before the invasion, before his fall from heaven, before ever committing himself to any particular strategy, Leonardo always examined every option available. He once was an organized being and there once was a time when he found relief in writing each proposed plan in his careful script on a single sheet of loose-leaf.

It had been months since Leonardo wrote such a list, yet there in the sand, sat two simple lines.

A beginning and an end

_1\. __I kill myself_

_2\. __I go back and pretend that everything's fine_

Two lines. Twin statements. Dual intent

Was this all the universe had left to offer? Were these his only choices?

Once Leonardo had relished such simple problems that, due to their nature alone, only possessed a few different solutions. Yet somehow, the uneven distribution of those millions of tiny crystals, shards, and stones did not seem so simple.

Maybe two choices did not mean easier decisions.

Hadn't he once known that? Hadn't someone once told him to be patient?

Foggy memories

They clouded his mind and hurt his brain. Still, his eyes would not leave those painful words. Tears began to fall, and no matter how many times he brushed them aside, the deluge continued.

As though his own soul were leaking away

Maybe it wasn't so simple. Maybe complexity hid in simplicity. One thing he did know: he didn't like his choices.

His brain felt like a patch of mud in a far distant sea, and each wave pounded at the inside of his skull, but somehow he knew there was _something_ he was forgetting. Something _he_ had forgotten. Something _important_.

For a long time only his tear drops left dark marks on the earth. Leonardo thought it was funny something that started out so clear and pure always ended in darkness. Maybe tears were not the soul itself, but the spirit releasing the beliefs it once thought to be true. Then, only at the very end, did the lies reveal their true intentions. Yet, how did one's soul come to purge such energy?

How did one learn they had been wrong? How did one learn the truth? How did one find their way back?

He needed a guide.

His eyes widened, as he suddenly saw colour – long thought lost – ignite his vision as though his irises had transformed into a veritable prism with the dawn of iridescent realization.

Shaking, dappled, leaf green fingers touched the brown, grey, gold, yellow, white, and black grains.

_3\. __I need help_

For several minutes, Leonardo stared dumb-founded at those

three

monosyllabic

words.

His brain exploded with thought. A roar of memories flooded to the surface. Stimuli cracked along his dark walls. Not just colour, but smell, taste, sound, and touch. _How long had the birds been singing? How long had his nails had grains of sand shoved so close to the cuticle? How long had it been since he smelt spring?_ Wet. Earthy. Beautiful Spring.

Yet, those feelings paled at the memory that had somehow clawed its way to the forefront of his consciousness. Battling back demons both foreign and native, both real and imagined, all protecting yet damning. Somehow it was there, and now it seemed so _obvious_.

Whenever he had struggled in the past to form a plan, his brothers had always stepped in to add thoughts and ideas. His one piece of paper always started as a neat and simple set of lines until his brothers came in and dug out the truth. What began as a way to relieve his mind of hundreds of whirling thoughts had become a colossal, chaotic collaboration, and Leonardo _loved_ every minute of it. It started with him, but they always were there to end it _together_.

Leonardo had never had to ask either; his brothers always just seemed to _know_. Yet, they had _not_ intervened this time.

The blue-clad turtle frowned at that thought, before realizing that _it couldn't be true_. Everyone in the household had been trying to help: from April cooking and practically force-feeding him, to Raphael just sitting with him in companionable silence, but most of all, Michelangelo had been there doing everything in his power to get his idea on his big brother's paper. A paper that been telling Leonardo lies while hiding his brothers' words, and would do so no more.

_For now he knew,  
and Leonardo wept  
for all he almost lost._

He did not know how he had gotten so far away from his family, but he knew he couldn't continue going on this way. Leonardo now knew if he did, in time he would return to his list in the sand_. Gradually, it would become more and more appealing._ Every dance with oblivion could always end with being led through those gates, and it was a risk Leonardo did not want to take again, no matter how sweet the song.

He did not move until well after dawn, but when he did, he left his words in the sand. The waves would erase them in time, and when that time came, Leonardo prayed he would have a new list formed by four hands.

* * *

The turtle stood and wobbled precariously on his legs – beyond weakened from exhaustion and low blood sugar – but Leonardo grit his teeth, and through his tears – he still could not get them to stop – he turned back in the direction he had come.

Only then did he realize he was being watched.

If it hadn't moved that one silverberry bush just so, he would have missed it. Yet, just as the branches began to settle, Leonardo had caught a brief glimpse of two eyes staring directly at him. He stepped forward, but as quickly as they appeared, they were gone.

The turtle searched the edge of the woods and just before he was about to give up, he spied movement. This time a slender hoof. He began to follow it. A few prints here, a flash of brown fur there, but after at least half-an-hour, Leonardo knew the nature of his quarry. For at last, it revealed itself in the shade of the ancient canopy.

A stag.

Delicate yet bold antlers perched upon its crown. The faint whisper of breath from its noble body. Deep brown eyes reflected all it saw, hinting at all of creation's deepest secrets while simultaneously penetrating into Leonardo's very soul.

Leonardo began to creep toward it, when suddenly a voice broke through the mesmerizing silence, "Because I'm a monster."

The turtle turned his head towards the sound of his brother, Raphael. When he returned his attention back to the stag, it had vanished as though it had never been. Leonardo gasped, "No way…"

Before Donatello's voice caught his attention, "No. It's because she loves you."

With the deer obviously gone, the eldest reptile continued in the direction of his brothers. Raphael stuttered, "L-love?"

Donatello answered with a note of melancholy in his voice, "Yeah Raph. In the kitchen yesterday, swimming, even when you were both spitting fire just now. She looks at you like… Like you're an angel. Like she'd never seen a sunrise, never felt winter's first snowflakes, never smelt autumn's crispness, until she met you."

Leonardo's eyes widened, unknowingly blushing alongside his brothers. He could not believe he had missed something so important transpiring within his family. As he drew closer, he continued to strain his ears in an attempt to catch all he had missed. Raphael sounded bewildered, "You serious?"

"Dude, it's totally obvious to everyone but you." His baby brother's voice made his heart leap to his mouth. Leonardo had so much he wanted to say to this particular brother.

Donatello continued, "And you look at her the same way."

Finally through the foliage, Leonardo caught sight of Raphael as he spoke, "Shit… I'm such an idiot."

Next he saw Michelangelo walk over to his brother while shrugging sympathetically, "Don't worry bro, it runs in the family."

Lastly his eyes landed on Donatello, "It's true. I'm the biggest idiot of them all."

Leonardo could not resist. He emerged from the trees to shake his head at his second youngest brother, "No way Don. That title is definitely mine."

In that moment he could not describe how grateful he was to see them all smile at his appearance as they cried unison, "LEO!"

Naturally, Michelangelo launched himself immediately at his eldest brother, "You're back!"

Leonardo felt his eyes watering once more, as he crushed his baby brother into the biggest hug he could muster, "Yeah Mikey I'm back. I'm finally back."

Then the eldest unleashed the first real smile he had felt in months. For a moment, his brothers gawked in disbelief. Their Leader wasn't surprised. They had probably thought the brother before them would never return, but somehow he had. Still, Leonardo knew he had a lot of work to do if he was going to stay. When no one immediately spoke, he took his opportunity, "Guys, I need to ask you for something."

Raphael grinned at the unexpected humility their Fearless Leader was displaying, "Just name it Leo."

The blue-clad turtle smiled appreciatively at his red-clad brother, before rubbing his shoulder nervously, "It's hard to start. So… Um…" Michelangelo squeezed his brother's hand affectionately, which gave Leonardo the courage to continue. He had to do this. If he didn't, he knew what awaited him, "I haven't been feeling so… So good lately."

Donatello stepped forward worry on his face, "Are you in pain? Did I miss something when I treated your injuries?"

The eldest placed a comforting hand on his anxious sibling, "No Don, you did great. I mean… I am in pain," Leonardo caught Raphael's green eyes give him a knowing look, "But not from something like that."

He expelled a breath, pulling away from Michelangelo and Donatello so he could pace. Leonardo had not expected this to be so difficult, but the shame was beginning to creep up his legs, carried by those dark smothering tentacles. He swallowed and set his jaw. Leonardo needed to say this, "I've been feeling like this a long time, and… and well lately it was becoming… I mean I was becoming… I uh…"

Suddenly Raphael was before him, "Leo, you don't have to say it-"

Meeting his gaze, Leonardo interrupted, "No Raphael. I _need_ to say it."

The red-clad turtle before him nodded, while the youngest siblings exchanged wary looks. Once more their Leader dove into the deep end, "I was feeling really bad guys. Like… Like I wasn't even myself anymore, and I have to be honest with you…" He took another deep breath, "I don't know how long I have until those feelings… Until I… Or if I… I mean – I might still disappear..."

Michelangelo spoke softly, "This is about more than you wandering around in the woods, isn't it?"

Leonardo sighed, "Yes."

Raphael looked towards the wooded horizon, folding his arms, "It's like you go away and don't even realize you're gone until you come back."

The blue-clad turtle nodded, "Yeah and my body's here, but my mind – I'm not. But it's not a mental vacation. It really… _It really hurts,_ and I was there in that place for so long… I didn't know how to get back or even what getting back meant… Because… Because _I didn't even know I was gone_."

Raphael muttered, "Like your brain is lying to you."

"Exactly," Leonardo affirmed, "So that was bad enough, but then I stopped sleeping. Food tasted like cardboard and… And _I just wanted the pain to stop_."

Donatello gave his brother a wounded look, "Leo, I had no idea. I'm sure I could have-"

Leonardo shook his head, "No Don. There was nothing you could do then, because _I didn't even know what was wrong_. Trust me, Michelangelo tried everything, but I needed to make the decision for myself, which didn't happen until…

He needed to tell them, to make them understand, but suddenly Leonardo was terrified, "I… I was hearing things… And feeling nothing and everything at once. So I ended up deep in the woods. I guess subconsciously part of me was trying to find a way back, but then the alternative presented itself… And I… And I…" He forced himself to say it even though it sent daggers of pain through his soul, "And _I almost took it_."

Both Donatello's and Michelangelo's eyes widened in horror while Raphael's mouth formed a thin line as he spoke, "But you didn't."

Blue met green, "No I didn't. And I don't _ever_ want to go back there. So now I'm here, and I need you guys to help me stay here."

Michelangelo jumped onto his brother again, "Leo bro, I can be on guard 24/7 if you want!"

Trying to convey how grateful he was, Leonardo hugged his brother back, "You've already done so much Mikey. I know I wasn't really with it, or the nicest to you, but I am so lucky to have you as a little brother."

The youngest briefly beamed, before pulling away with a more serious expression on his face, "I'll do whatever you need me to Leo. Even if you fight me every step of the way, if it means keeping you healthy, I'll do it."

"I can do some research," Donatello interjected, "I'm sure just what you experienced alone is causing you to have some post-traumatic stress symptoms. Not to mention, the concussion you had was pretty nasty so I'm sure that hasn't helped."

Raphael wrapped an arm around his older brother's shoulders, "See Leo, you didn't even have to ask."

Leonardo smiled appreciatively at his immediate younger sibling while Donatello spoke somewhat quietly while rubbing his arm, "I've got your back Leo," he looked at his red-clad brother, "I'm always be there for my brothers even if I can be stupid sometimes."

The turtle leader was relinquished from his brother's grasp so that Raphael could move towards Donatello, "You really mean that Don?"

This time brown met green, "Yes."

Raphael absently dug his foot into the dirt, "So you forgive me then? You're cool if April and I…"

Donatello shook his head, "Raph you have nothing to be sorry for. I was the one who treated you like a total ass. I mean… It probably will take me a bit to recover, but if you and April are happy together, then I'll be fine."

The red-clad turtle quirked an eye ridge skeptically, "Just to clarify, is that an I'm-saying-I'm-fine-but-am-actually-anything-but fine or an I'm-actually-cool-with-this fine?"

The addressed turtle sheepishly smiled, "The second."

Raphael began to count off his fingers, "So no more left-handed jabs?"

Donatello grinned fiendishly, "Only the ones that form from my deep and sincere brotherly love for you."

Said brother rolled his eyes, "So no more I "stole the love or your life" comments?"

Donatello replied more solemnly, "Definitely no more of those."

Raphael nodded in approval while ticking off his last and third finger on his right hand, "So no more fairy tales revolving around me being a monster?"

In a rare display of affection Donatello wrapped an arm around Raphael's shoulders, "Naw. If anything I'm the ugly duckling in the story. You're too short to be a swan."

The two brothers sealed the deal by Raphael tackling Donatello to the ground. While the two quarrelling brothers rolled around on the grass, Michelangelo looked thoughtfully at Leonardo, "Say, if you were walking all night, how'd you get back here so fast?"

"I don't know Mikey," Once again, Leonardo could have sworn he saw a glimpse of the same majestic antlers peeping out of the underbrush. As they disappeared, Leonardo shook his head, "But maybe the solution is more obvious than we think."

He gave Michelangelo a mischievous grin, before diving for him too. Soon the four brothers were laughing amongst their tussle, while a stag wandered off into the woods to return another day.

* * *

The weather began to turn as the four reptiles eventually set out towards the old farmhouse. Sunlight slowly sifted through greying clouds, and the smell of moisture tinged the air. There were no signs of thunder heads, and the wind had not picked up, but the darkening clouds heralded that a shower was coming.

As they came into sight of their current residence, the turtles were met by a solemn Casey Jones resting on the porch steps. Based on the tightening of Raphael's jaw, Leonardo knew that something was amiss. Michelangelo spoke first, "Hey Casey! Check out who we found in the woods!"

The vigilante gave a smile to the blue-clad turtle's wave, but before the welcome could continue, Raphael interjected with a grim voice, "Where's April?"

Casey sighed, "Not here man. She took off a while ago, but she gave me this."

Before anyone could even glance at the small piece of crunched paper in Casey's hand, Raphael had it in his grasp and had automatically distanced himself from the group as his eyes skimmed over the words. Abruptly he asked, "What time is it?"

Everyone shrugged except Donatello who pulled out his trusty t-phone, "Half past two. Why?"

"Shit." Raphael cursed, and then, without another word, pelted back into the forest.

The remaining turtles gawked at in the direction of their departed brother before turning their attention to Casey with questioning eyes. The human raised his hands in defense, "Hey don't look at me! I didn't piss her off."

Donatello tentatively asked, "Did she say anything about what I did?"

Casey rubbed the back of his head, "See, that's the weird thing. I thought she would be ready to scorch flames at you and Raph, but she didn't. I mean she didn't say much after I calmed her down, but when she was crying she kept talking about how it was "her fault.""

"Aw geez…" Michelangelo muttered before – to Leonardo's surprise – pointedly asking, "What did the note say?"

The vigilante shook his head, "No way bro, we're not going there. She made me swear I wouldn't read it."

Leonardo felt his eyes widen as Michelangelo procured an assertive tone he had no idea his baby brother possessed, "_What did it say Casey?_"

The human looked just as stunned before snapping, "Seriously Mikey, I. Don't. Know. I didn't read it!"

Michelangelo frowned, "So Raph just went God-knows-where to find April who could be in who-the-hell knows?"

Casey rubbed his hair again, "Uh, more or less."

At his youngest brother's black look, Donatello gave Leonardo a sharp stare before grabbing Casey, "Come on Jones. I want to set up an indoor arena to train in the barn, and that roof needs to be fixed before it starts raining again."

"Dude," Casey grumbled, "I literally just felt a drop on my face. I ain't getting on no roof!"

Donatello snapped, "Just come on," and the two disappeared into the ancient crimson structure.

Leonardo looked at his youngest brother who still bore an annoyed expression. The blue-clad turtle tilted his head briefly in thought, before resting his hand on the smaller's shoulder, "Mikey, can I talk to you?"

The orange-clad turtle's face lightened at the touch. Blue eyes widened in curiosity, "'Sup Leo?"

The eldest gestured to the porch and Michelangelo followed to sit by him at the top of the steps where they were sheltered from the rain. It was only lightly drizzling now, but it was only a matter of time until it turned into a heavy downpour. The two sat in silence for a moment, shoulder-to-shoulder, before Leonardo spoke, "I am really sorry Mikey."

Michelangelo waved his hands in refusal, "You have nothing to apologize for bro. You've been through a lot."

The elder sighed, "And so have you."

His younger brother's eyes flicked quickly to Leonardo's before staring off into the greying distance before mumbling, "It's cool Leo. I'm fine. Between Don, Raph, and you, I'm the last turtle you should worry about."

"Somehow I doubt that."

Fidgeting, Michelangelo tapped his heels against the wooden steps, before plastering a smile on his face, "Look who you're talking to Leo! Dr. Prankenstein is immune to sorrow!"

"Mikey…"

"Seriously Leo, I'm like the king of optimism, the turtle of sunshine, the-"

Leonardo cut him off, "Don't lie to yourself Michelangelo."

"I'm-"

The blue-clad turtle plowed on, "No. I'm not going to let what happened to me happen to you. Look at me Mike."

When the orange-clad turtle continued to fix his gaze to the raining horizon, Leonardo summoned his own Leader voice, "_Michelangelo, look at me."_

Baby blue eyes, welling with tears, finally turned up to meet Leonardo's own fathomless indigo depths. Their eyes had always been so similar, and yet they had always been the most distinct. Leonardo would not relinquish his brother's stare, "Mikey, if you lie to yourself every day, eventually you will come to believe those lies were always the truth. Then one day," Leonardo's eyes filmed over in painful recollection, "you wake up and realize that for years you have been living a lie."

Michelangelo quietly questioned, "Leo…?"

Leonardo closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He now knew what was the truth, but it still was difficult to release the binds he had attached to those lies. "You know I've always been a perfectionist Mikey. A hundred-and-ten percent or not at all, you know?" The younger nodded, "Well over time, I thought being perfect was my _purpose_ in life and that if I wasn't, I had failed my calling. Secretly, I believed that if I failed at that, then not only would I have failed myself and my family, but I would no longer even deserve the right to exist.

"Then I lost to Shredder. Really lost. I was truly defeated and thought I was going to die, and when I realized I couldn't even manage an honourable death, well I… I finally was faced with the truth. That no matter how hard I tried, I could never obtain perfection, and my life's purpose suddenly was unreachable.

"Just like that, my core mantra was dismissed, and I no longer knew what was real and what was false. What other lies had my brain told me? What lies was it telling me now? I became paranoid and thought you all were lying too.

"I was alone and afraid all because reality was too hard to bear. So I retreated. Yes, somehow I did manage to find my way back, but I'm still in pain partially because of the hole that those lies left behind.

"So please Mikey, please don't start lying to yourself too. It's ok to admit it's been hard. It's ok to admit you're hurting. You don't have to always be happy and you don't always have to be strong. Just be you… Just be you..."

Half-way through the speech Leonardo had begun to cry again, and Michelangelo had started to rub his carapace, but now that he was done speaking, he threw himself on to his little brother. Feeling his tears stream down in a hot river of release, Leonardo choked out, "Please… I don't want you to ever feel as alone as I did. I love you too much baby bro."

Then Leonardo felt a hiccup and pulled away to see Michelangelo's own face awash with tears. As each tear fell away onto the ground, a little dark spot was left behind leaving room for each bit of Michelangelo's soul to be healed, and with that realization Leonardo could only smile, "You know how proud I am of you Mikey?"

Finally, the youngest turtle sniffled out a reply, "You're proud of _me_?"

"Shell yeah!" Leonardo beamed, "I can't believe how much you've matured Mike. I know I still call you baby brother, and I probably always will, but you're really coming into your own."

The younger chuckled, "Heh. Guess we all have to grow up sometime…"

Leonardo placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, "If pranks and video games make you happy Mikey then do them. As long as you're happy with yourself, I'll be proud of you."

Michelangelo nodded, "Deal, but the same goes for you Leo. Whether you're perfect or not, you'll always be our Leader and you'll always be our brother."

The blue-clad turtle nodded, "Thanks Mikey. I think I can shake to that."

They grasped each other's hand and nodded in affirmation before sinking back into companionable silence. Eventually, Michelangelo spoke, "Leo?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm proud of you too."

Leonardo wrapped an arm around Michelangelo, and the two brothers leaned in against each other. Sitting side-by-side, watching the rain fall while savouring the sweet smell and gentle rhythmic patter, the brothers carefully stored a memory that would always be theirs and theirs alone.

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**A/N Michelangelo and Leonardo brotherly fluff 3 **

**One more chapter to go guys… The end is near… I still don't know how I feel about it…**

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**And now something a little more somber:**

**I know that to some of you Leonardo's chapters may have hit closer to home. I have done my best to try and approach the subject matter in a sensitive and respectful manner, while still hopefully conveying to my audience a bit more perspective on such a complex topic. **

**On a related note, I'm not going to lie, life can be pretty shitty sometimes, but it's ok if you're struggling and it's ok to ask for help. The reality is mental illness is a legitimate medical concern, and it comes in a variety of forms – any of which can be tremendously painful for both the patient and their loved ones. **

**I'm not interested in throwing statistics at you or debating anyone's views – which everyone is entitled to – but I just want to let those who are struggling – in any way – know they are not alone, and they don't have to go it alone. **

**Anyway, I just wanted to put that out there, because this topic hits closer to home for me as well. I've been on both sides of the fence, and neither is particularly pleasant. I won't go into any more details here, but of course, if any of you have questions or concerns feel free to message me. Just no flames please and thank-you.**

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**To my ever lovely reviewers:**

**Terri: I know! This fic is such a beast! I have to say it's been a great ride for me as well. When I first decided to take this on, I knew it would be a gargantuan task, and I'd have to dig really deep if I was going to make it believable. There were some tough times and some good times (I totally teared up a bit when I had Leo return), but I still stuck with it and I am so glad I did. You and everyone's comments have really made this an unforgettable experience and knowing that my efforts were not just appreciated, but even loved is just totally mind-boggling to me! I am without a doubt infinitely grateful for every comment I have received. **

**Anyway I suppose I have talked enough for now, but I just gotta say YES GET AN ACCOUNT! Especially cuz I don't have a Tumblr (I am such a techno-phobe, which is weird considering how techie my generation is supposed to be) and once I'm done this fic there will be a lot less of our basking in our mutual Raphril love. Just saying conversations outside of fics are pretty sweet.**

**Guest: Thank-you so much! Haha yeah, I don't keep an exact schedule, but I try to update at least once a week. =)**

**vballplyr16: Thank-you! I shall definitely do my best =D**

**Mr. E: Yay! I know my Mikey deviates a bit from the canon, but I just feel like he has sooo much potential. So much hidden depth that has yet to be tapped, and so I just had to draw it out. Also, thank-you! I whole heartedly agree. Life is life, and even if it's crazy sometimes, I can't help but love it 3 =D Besides, even on the craziest days I still love my job so I really have nothing to complain about (that said I would have been cool if I hadn't gotten trapped in the elevator XD). **

**majishan: I know right?! Mikey is such a super star in disguise! I can't help but love him 3**

**turtlesrockmysocks: Thank-you! Aw man, it was a slight nightmare keeping track of it all. So to hear that it didn't just turn out well, but was "mesmerizing" is so good to hear (especially cuz I totally aim for that a lot by trying to make my prose semi-lyrical – some chapters obviously more than others depending on who's POV we're in)! I totally agree! Mikey is such a potential wealth of depth and awesomeness that is often seriously left untapped (I think of all reincarnations the comics probably did the best job on that aspect of his character). Haha yes! Ic just felt I needed some kind of comic relief to ease the drama. Kind of like Shakespeare's fools. Comic relief, but deep at the same time.**

**Komnenid: So there was a letter… But what did it say? Bwahaha you shall find out soon ;) I to say I'm happy Raph and Don are on better terms too. It took a while, but they finally got there.**

**ThePastReliesOnMemories: Yay! Bring on the happiness! Leo (as mentioned above) still has a lot of work to do. Something like this isn't something that just magically goes away I'm afraid, but at least Leo now recognizes that he needs help and is going to take the steps he needs to get better.**

**kamilaloveboysloveyai: Thank-you for reading and reviewing =)**

**ariesdragon2000: Sweet! I'm so pumped that my rendition of Mike is getting such a good reception! I think it's cuz so many of us feel like he has just so much untapped depth and potential. So I just couldn't help, but dig into it a bit. Yeah… Leo was really close. I won't deny it. Even now, he still has a lot of work to do to get better, but he's taken the first step, which in many things is often the most difficult. Haha I know this fic is such a beast! I think I'm around like 70,000 words or something ridiculous? Still I'm glad to hear that even after so many words I haven't bored people to death with all my turtle feels XD**


	22. Chapter 22: Water of my Earth

**A/N I do not own TMNT. I only own my poetry and ideas, but I will always be grateful for the creation of our wonderful turtles.**

**This is it guys. The final chapter.**

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Love or Blood

Chapter 22: Water of my Earth

Raphael's feet pounded against earth. Calves cramping, lungs screaming, heart once again wondering if this time it would finally break beyond repair. He had been so stupid. He had let his guilt fester until it mutated into nothing short of sheer wretchedness.

Donatello had indeed helped cultivate Raphael's self-destructive behaviour. However, although the purple-clad turtle may have manipulated his brother's dark essence, thereby allowing it to slice into the one Raphael loved so deeply; it was not Donatello who planted these seeds. There were far more malevolent roots that laid hidden deep in Raphael's soul well before his brother's nourishing envy appeared. Yes, the conflict with the younger was draining, but the elder's near-impervious insecurities were far more invasive.

Those vines had trapped his heart and strangled his thoughts. Forcing him to choke out words filled with scorn and hatred, causing the one he loved most to be hurt, and now, she may never look back.

Raphael had believed his hidden fears had been dealt with – fought off by both April's affections and assurances. However, the moment they were given an inch, the belligerent roots dug deep, forcing him to push her away in fear of them cutting any deeper into his heart.

He had to stop them. He had to get her back. He had to find her.

For he could not bear to lose her, but time was not on his side – nor were the elements. The wind had strengthened, and as he raced onwards, praying that he had been right in pursuing her to that place, drops of rain began to fall. Yet, even as multitudes of drops began swarming and joining on his scales, the words from her note, now clenched in his hand, continually streamed through his brain while bleeding ink onto his hand:

_"In that place of our kisses,  
Your fishes were my wishes.  
I cannot turn back that day's tide  
While you reside in my mind._

_Did flames burn all away?  
This flicker inside may  
be a false heart's beating.  
Still however fleeting –  
baring myself for thee  
I prayed you _saw_ me –  
To You, it was nothing.  
To Me, it was something._

_Before I thought never would we be_  
_and still, I wait – if only 'til three._  
_So come the cruel and wretched twilight_  
_I will not quiver under your might."_

His heart had a ceased beating the first time he read her words and left him speechless.

For April to write something like that… Something she struggled so deeply with… All because she knew what it meant to him… How could he have ever doubted her intentions?

Although this angel had spoken to him in his language, Raphael now realized with undoubted clarity how close he was to losing her, and he knew if she left him now, he would be forever altered. She would return to heaven, leaving him behind as a mere mortal eternally damned with regret. Never again would he have another glimpse at paradise.

The rain howled with the wind, and the sheer volume of water left the turtle imprisoned inside walls created from vast canvases of raindrops. The thicker the torrential sheets became, the more trapped he felt, which continually fueled his anxiety to find April. She was somewhere out there in the northern monsoon hurting because of him. Yet, by some miracle, she was still giving him a chance. Even in this driving downpour, she was letting him see her, and Raphael had to use the opportunity to set things right.

The rain steadily pounded down onto his scales and shell, but he did not slow his pace. His green feet squelched through thick mud, and slid through slick grass. His eyes were stinging from both rain and exertion, providing excuse for his tears born from a tangled and knotted mess of origins. Finally, when he thought his muscles would simultaneously seize in protest, he arrived at that spot.

For one brief, agonizing breath, he thought he had been wrong and she was not there.

His eyes scanned the sheltered tree line showing no sign of her slender form, but then he flicked his gaze to sandy beach. There, sitting in wet sand, in the pouring rain, by the edge of the water, sat April with knees to her chest and arms curled around them. Her clothes were soaked and her ponytail sagged from saturation. Drenched hair, no longer bright red, was now a dark, dripping auburn. Drops amalgamated to form steady trails down her pale skin connecting sky to earth, while small puffs of mist came with each warm exhalation.

She was Raphael's living, breathing angel.

If ever Raphael wished he could freeze time, now would be it. Then he could sit for eternity gazing at that seraph before he lost her forever. Time did him no favours. Raphael walked towards her, dread building with every step he took. Surely, this was it.

He paused beside her and her eyes did not leave the disturbed surface of the lake. A mirror with thousands of worlds rippling away with every second that passed. All he could say was, "Hey."

April turned and looking no higher than his knees, gave a quick nod before returning her gaze to the lake. Although deeply unsettled by this action, he tried to play it cool and brush it off with his infamous sardonic humour, "You know, when it's raining this hard, most sane people go indoors."

Silence.

Nervously, Raphael went to play with his bandana's tails to find them plastered to his shoulder. Prying them off he frowned, "Or since there's no lightning we could find a nice dry tree."

Silence.

Trying to keep his cool and avoid pacing, the turtle flopped down onto the saturated sand, "Or I guess we could sit on the freezing, wet ground and continue to get drenched."

Finally, April offered him a response. He was positively thrilled when it came in the form of another sharp nod. Raphael didn't know if he should feel anger or distress from her behaviour. On the one hand, she hadn't yelled at him to get lost, which _was_ a good thing, but on the hand, maybe she was torturing him before she delivered the final, crushing blow. Either way, Raphael knew he had to keep his temper out of the picture if he was to convince her that he wasn't a raging maniac. Otherwise, he would have no chance of undoing the damage he had done. Besides, she had left him a poem, and girls didn't leave guys poems if they felt nothing towards them. _Right?_

With that thought in mind, he tried a new approach, "I got your note."

When Raphael went to release his fist's grip on the paper, he was horrified to see the rain had made the ink run and the paper disintegrate. April's olive branch to him was now nothing more than a handful of ink-stained, pulpy mush. He quickly shoved the blob into his belt before she could witness what he had done to her affectionate gesture, while inwardly berating himself for yet again being such an idiot. Plowing on as if nothing was amiss, "I read it. So I'm here."

Apparently, Raphael was a part of a one-sided conversation, "I liked it. I mean… It was a good poem."

Once again he went to play with his mask tails to receive a fistful of water, "I would have come sooner, but Leo came back. I think he's going to be ok now. I mean, he's still not all good, but he wants to try."

He felt like his heart would explode out of his chest. In his agitation he continued to ramble, "And uh… Mikey and Don are good too. Well, Don's not completely better, but he's getting there. Plus we talked, and we're good now, which is… Well good."

Raphael sighed in defeat. He just wanted this all over with so he could go home, get dry, and mope over the lonely existence that was now his reality for the remainder of his sad, pathetic life, "Look April, I know I don't have a lot to offer you. Besides the whole giant turtle thing, I'm moody, impulsive, and have some serious anger issues. I know I'm an ass, but it's not an excuse for how I treated you earlier.

"I was a total jerk and I definitely shouldn't have assumed that you knew we could hold our breath underwater like normal turtles. If I were you and hadn't known, I would have reacted the same way. I just… I just want you to know I'm sorry… I mean… I get you don't want to forgive me. So just say the word and I'm gone."

Suddenly, April was sitting in front of him, "Please don't go."

He blinked wide-eyed in confusion, "Uh… Beg pardon?"

Tentatively, she wrapped her right hand around one of his digits, "Please don't go."

Raphael was having trouble processing what exactly was going on, "Aren't you mad?"

She rapidly shook her head and he cried, "Then what's with the silent treatment?"

"I'm afraid."

Those big blue eyes met his and Raphael knew she was telling the truth. He curled his index finger around her hand, lowering his voice, "Why?"

"I'm afraid to speak," she rubbed her right bicep nervously, "I don't want to say the wrong thing. I don't want to hurt you anymore."

"April…" He could not help, but cup her cheek with his free left hand, "You didn't say the wrong thing. Like I said, I'm the one who has been a total jerk to you. I'm… I'm the one you should be scared of."

Eyes widening in shock she gaped, "That's not true. I can't even begin to describe all the wonderful things you are. I could never be scared of you Raphael." She looked away in shame, "You're not the fire here."

The green-eyed turtle was stunned. After all he had done, and after all he had said, April still saw the good in him. So why did she look so miserable? "April…?"

She refused to meet his questioning stare. Instead, she released his hand and wrapped her arms tightly around her torso, "It was me Raph. It was me all along. I'm the fire. I'm the one who ruins all they touch and all they see. I… I try to be a good person, but I keep hurting everyone around me. First Casey, then Don, and now you… I don't deserve anything except the ashes I create."

He saw her shaking, but no tears fell. Suddenly Raphael realized that she probably didn't think she was worthy of even those tiny drops. She was so very wrong, "That's not true April."

Finally she looked at him square in the eyes, "Yes it is."

The turtle was at a loss. How could he prove to her how precious she was to him? His eyes landed on the lake, willingly accepting every drop that met its surface. Raphael nodded in its direction, "Look," a flicker of confusion crossed her face, but she did as requested. When she had settled beside him he continued, "When I was little, on days like these I used to sneak out of the Lair and watch the rain fall from the storm drains. It was the perfect time. I could get right up to the grate, and because everyone was always in a hurry to get out of the rain, no one ever noticed me. Still, I never stayed for very long. My absence would be missed, but if given the choice, I could stare at the sky all day.

"I used to dream about the clouds and how lucky they were. They could float anywhere and do whatever they pleased. They were free and I envied them. Yet every time I watched the rain fall, I couldn't help but wonder if I was missing something. Why would anything ever leave the freedom of the clouds? What made the raindrops always return to the earth?

"I know Donnie would explain it with temperature changes, pressure differences, and science you out until your ears bleed, and now that I'm older, I know water isn't sentient. Still, I never forgot that question, and until now, I didn't have an answer."

April turned to him with questioning eyes, "What is it?"

A soft grin touched his face as he wrapping one hand behind her head while the other took her hand. Looking into her startling sapphire pools he whispered, "Because water knows how much the earth appreciates it, and no one appreciates water more than the earth." He leaned forward until their foreheads touched, "You're my water April and I'm your earth." Raphael moved his head to give her a tender kiss, staying just long enough to heat the skin. As he pulled away he murmured, "And there's our fire."

Roses blossomed on fair cheeks, "Raphael…"

At the question in her eyes he shook his head, "We need fire April. It keeps us warm," her skin darkened further and he smirked before continuing, "It gives us light. It does create ashes from what it burns, but an ending is only a beginning under a different name. Both are needed and both can be good. So even if there's fire in both of us, I wouldn't want it any other way."

Finally, a loving smile danced across her lips. Raphael grinned and as he nuzzled her, he murmured, "There's my April."

The angel in his arms nestled her head on his shoulder inhaling his musky scent before whispering, "I'm "your April," am I?"

Raphael pulled back slightly, a frown creasing his mask as he looked at her, "Aren't you?"

April also leaned back, but did not fully leave his embrace, "What about Don?"

"What about him?"

She huffed in exasperation, "Raph, I don't want to be the wedge between you two, and I don't want you to eventually come to resent me for it."

His eyes softened, "Didn't you hear me earlier? I talked to him."

"Right," April snorted, "Because talking worked so well last time."

"This time was different. This time we actually talked, and he really is going to be ok with it April. I mean, he did say to give him some time, but he really did give us his blessing."

"He did?"

Raphael nodded, "He did. He said if you and I were happy, then he would be too."

April shook her head flabbergasted, "Wow. I didn't think he had it in him."

"Me either." The turtle nervously cleared his throat, "But uh… Overhearing our argument might have helped."

"He heard too?!"

The red-clad turtle sighed, "Only one who didn't was Leo."

The girl folded her arms, "Geez, can't even get five minutes of privacy around here."

"Hey," he chuckled, "you didn't have three brothers growing up. Consider it you paying your dues."

"Fine whatever." Then she frowned, "Speaking of a certain argument," Raphael felt his stomach roll, "We should probably talk about some of the _finer_ points."

"Uh…"

"Don't look at me like that Raphael. We need to have a certain discussion."

In apprehension, Raphael found himself pulling ever-so-slightly into his shell, "I said I was sorry."

April cocked an eyebrow, "You're sorry?"

"Yes…?"

"Prove it."

The turtle didn't know what she expected from him, "Um…"

The red-head rolled her eyes, "Aren't you going to ask me?" He pulled his head up slightly. At his look of confusion, April smirked, "Come on Raph. For a tough guy like you, asking me to be your girlfriend should be a piece of cake."

She wiggled her eyebrows as the import of what she said dawned upon him. Raphael could not help, but give her a smouldering smile, "What, you don't want to ask me?"

"I could," she shrugged, "But I'm not the one with the trust issues."

He frowned, "I don't have trust issues."

April stood her ground, "You're the one who flew off the handle making all these assumptions that I thought you were a monster or that I only care about physical appearances or all this other shit that I told you I don't give a fuck about!"

Raphael snapped, "Hey, you're not the one who grew up knowing he was a freak!"

"Huh. Well, how about we take a step back shall we?"

He grunted, "How so?"

Piercing blue eyes made him inwardly cringe, "Have I ever lied to Raphael?"

He didn't like where this was going, "…No."

April continued to pour ice into her stare, "And have I ever given you reason to think I was lying to you?"

He sighed, "No."

"See! You have trust issues!"

Raphael folded his arms, "Fine, I'm sorry."

She shook her head, "Not good enough Raph."

Sharply, he looked at her, "What the hell do you want me to do April?"

"I need to know you trust me."

"I do trust you!"

"Saying is different than meaning."

He growled, "Well what am I supposed to do?" Adding sarcastically, "Play trust games?"

"You know," April tapped her chin thoughtfully, "That's not a bad idea Raph."

He really didn't like where this was going, "Are you kidding me?! That's a terrible idea!"

"Get in your shell."

Raphael cocked an eye ridge. She could not be serious, "No."

She stood up, "I said get in your shell."

"April," he now made every effort to keep his neck fully extended, "It's pouring rain, I'm cold, and it's going to start getting dark soon. Can't we just go home?"

He went to stand and froze half-way up when April shot him another icy glare, "Raphael, get your turtle butt in your shell or I'm going to have a hell of a lot less trust in you." She paused to ensure he felt every bit of her raging blizzard in his gut, "_And you do not want that_."

Raphael then had no problem rolling onto his plastron and withdrawing into his shell. Too bad it was as cold and damp inside as it was outside. After a few seconds he called out, "Remind me again how this is supposed to build trust?"

"I'm going to move you, and you have to trust that I won't do something awful to you while you're in such a vulnerable state."

He definitely did not like this idea. He stuck his head out slightly, "Uh April…"

Raphael discovered even within the dark interior of his shell he was not safe from April's fury, "Get back in there!"

For a while he stayed put, curled up in silence trying his best not to moan or shudder every time she inadvertently rubbed his shell. After several minutes of listening to the unrelenting tapping of rain on his shell and consciously noting that he had not moved, he called out again, "If you're not going to move me, I'm coming out."

April grunted in response, "Just give me a second. I just needed to warm up."

He rolled his eyes, "Right…"

"Just be quiet!"

Raphael bit his tongue to keep from retorting and mustered what little patience he had left. Both the cold and missing another night of sleep was making him drowsy. He could not help but long to see his nice warm bed. After what had to be at least ten minutes – of him resolutely not moving – he risked April's wrath to ask, "So uh… Can we go home now?"

"…"

"April?"

He frowned when she didn't answer. Raphael knew April was still there – he could feel her on his carapace – so why wasn't she responding? Very carefully, he inched his head out of the shelter of his shell hoping the red-head wouldn't catch him sneaking out again. Once his head was fully extended, he turned to where he knew the girl sat and felt his eyes widen when he finally caught sight of her. She was kneeling in the wet sand beside him with her arms folded on his carapace. He could not see her face because her forehead was laying on her arms. For a moment he wondered if she was sleeping until he realized she was gently shaking. April was crying.

Despite the rain, when the turtle saw her lift her face away from her arms, there was no doubt she had been silently bawling on his shell. Raphael felt both mildly horrified and strangely pleased. He hated seeing her in pain but in a weird way, knowing that he could be there for her when she needed him had left him feeling strangely intimate with her.

Raphael did not care if April yelled at him for coming out, he did not hesitate to eject his limbs and quickly sweep her into his lap. He murmured into her hair, "April, it's ok…"

April buried her face into the crook of his neck, "Oh God, I'm so sorry Raphael. You must think I'm so gross crying on your back like that."

He cooed, "Hey… Hey… Shh… It's ok." He chuckled gently while rubbing the small of her back, "I'm wet back there anyway."

After a few minutes of holding her tight and whispering words of comfort, the shaking finally began to ease prompting him to ask, "You ok?"

The red-head pulled away slightly to allow her watery blue eyes to meet his compassionate green, "It's just been a long day." She laughed slightly, "Here I was with this great plan to move you over to the trees," She nodded in their direction, "And when I went to move you, suddenly I realized I couldn't."

He frowned, "Why not? At least I can pretend to be dry over there."

She shook her head, "No. I actually physically couldn't."

The mutant turtle scowled, "This is pretty bad timing for a fat joke April."

"I'm being serious!" she exclaimed, "How much do you weigh?"

He honestly didn't know. It wasn't like they checked that often. Sometimes Donatello would go around taking their measurements just for curiosity sake, but since they had no other mutant turtles to compare with, the data was pretty useless. Raphael hazarded a guess, "I don't know… I think last time Don weighed me was about a year ago. I think I was around 350 then (160 kg my metric friends). Might be heavier now though cuz I think I've grown a bit, plus I've been putting on more muscle since we got here."

When she just blinked wide-eyed at him he groaned, "What?"

"That's just… More than me…?"

He snorted, "Gee no kidding? Maybe it's cuz you've got noodle arms." Raphael's tone became serious, "You still haven't answered the question. Why were you crying?"

She sighed resting once more into his chest, "I kept trying to move you, but I couldn't. I got frustrated and then when I was looking at your shell… I… I realized how close I was to losing you, and I… I just couldn't bear the thought. I guess then it all came out." She sniffed, "Ugh, I'm such a cry baby lately!"

Overcome with the impulse to have her close, Raphael tugged her tightly against him. Softly, he murmured into her hair, "I was scared of losing you too."

April whispered up from his plastron, "You were?"

He quietly admitted, "I'm still scared."

Blue eyes gazed at him, "I'm not going anywhere."

He sighed, "I know you aren't… But I'm scared anyway."

The red-head tilted her head, "That doesn't make sense."

"Who said love makes sense?"

April pulled away to meet his eyes, "Raph?"

Emerald eyes widened, "Aw shit. I mean uh… I know we just started dating… I didn't mean to freak you out… Maybe let's just-"

April cut him off by smashing her lips against his. Then, there in the pouring rain, Raphael knew without a doubt she felt the same way. Yet, she knew what he still needed to hear, "I love you too Raphael."

A soft grin lit up his face, "Yeah?"

She nodded, "Yeah. Besides we may just be "official" now, but we have known each other for years."

He nuzzled her again, "I guess you're right."

"You know I am."

They kissed again and became lost together in the rain. After several minutes of gliding fingers and wandering lips, Raphael found himself shivering – partially from her administrations – largely from the damp chill that was gradually progressing deeper into his body, "Can we go home?"

She smirked, "What I'm not hot enough for you?"

He involuntarily shivered again as he rose, "Give me a break, April. I am a reptile."

April gave a teasing smile as she followed suit, "Don't worry Raph, I'm getting cold too. First thing I'm doing when we get back is filling up that tub with hot water."

As they directed themselves towards to farmhouse, he frowned at her remark, "Sure make the cold-blooded guy go second."

The red-head snaked warm fingers into his left hand and gave him a flirtatious smile, "Whoever said I was taking the bath alone?"

Raphael found himself feeling slightly less cold already, "Gonna heat me up are you?"

She squeezed her fingers, "I think I can handle the challenge."

Not halting their progress along the saturated earth, Raphael nipped at her throat, "I like it when we both win."

He loved her purr of contentment, "You and me both tough guy."

For several minutes they continued on the path offering each other coy grins, stolen kisses, loving nips, and gentle squeezes. However, upon coming into sight of the farmhouse, Raphael was reminded of his earlier discussion with his brothers, "So now that Leo's on the mend, we're gonna start planning."

She glanced up at him, "Yeah?"

He nodded solemnly, "We need to go back."

April gave his hand a tight squeeze as they walked up the porch steps, "Then we'll get ready together."

Entering the house, the couple could hear voices from the kitchen. Raphael put a finger over his mouth before gathering April up into his arms, bolting up the stairs, and retreating into the bathroom. Once the door was locked and April was back on her feet, Raphael dropped his ninja stealth to quickly shake his body relieving it of excess water. April squealed, "You couldn't have done that outside?"

He smirked, "What's the problem? You're soaked anyway."

April rolled her eyes as she turned the taps releasing a hot stream of steamy liquid magic. Content that the basin was filling with water of an acceptable temperature, she turned to see Raphael already free from his mask, wraps, belt, and sai. She smiled shyly at him before stepping onto her tiptoes to kiss him briefly before settling back on the soles of her feet. April moved his large hands onto her waist, "Help me get these wet things off?"

He felt his scales warm under her touch. Giving her his own tiny grin, he placed his large fingers under her shirt and eagerly began the mission set before him. After pealing each piece of sodden fabric from her slight figure, April spoke as she turned off the faucets, "I have a question."

He tilted his head at her, "Yeah?"

April grinned sheepishly, "Just out of curiosity, how long can you hold your breath?"

He mimicked her smile while still silently wondering how he somehow managed to not lose the celestial maiden before him, "Pretty long."

Flashing her blue eyes alluringly, she quirked eyebrow, "So… Would I be impressed?"

Raphael swept her up and whispered in her ear, "April, once I get you in that tub, you're never gonna doubt me again."

The turtle stepped into the warm water with his angel. As he delicately lowered her into the water, sapphires met emeralds once more before both melted under the heat of each other's fire.

Under the cloudy North Hampton sky, if only for that moment, all was right among the inhabitants of that tiny farmhouse as Water rejoined her lover, Earth.

_Fin_

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**A/N Guys… It's over… I… I DID IT! **

**When I first began this fic, I knew it would be a challenge, but I am so so glad I stuck with it until the end. I am also so thankful that I had so many readers and people who came to share my appreciation of Raphril. Mind, let's be honest, this fic touched on a lot more than said couple. It was about all of them, and I think, in large part, that's why I managed to make it work. **

**Still thank-you so much for taking the time to read and review my work. I want to especially give a shout out to all of those who commented regularly (you know who you are). Every review of course is loved, but knowing that there are those out there eagerly cheering you on as you go makes all the difference. **

**Don't worry, I still have a few fic ideas still rolling around (I should probably spend a bit of time on "Threads" XD), including more Raphril, and some other projects I've been working on here and there. So hopefully I'll see some of you again soon. Thank-you once more for all your love and support!**

**Diporae**

* * *

**To my lovely reviewers – for the last time here :'(**

**Terri: I still can't believe I'm finished… This fic has been so much fun, and I'm so glad I had a fan like you regularly giving me feedback. The ending probably wasn't a complete surprise (there was no way my Raphril ship was not going to make this a happy ending), but hopefully I still finished strong. I actually do have some more potential Raphril arcs floating around in my brain (plus some smaller stuff). I can't guarantee when they'll show up, but hopefully we'll cross paths again through our mutual Raphril love! Take care =)**

**majishan: Thank-you! I totally live for writing scenes like those. Also thanks for sticking with me since the beginning! I'm super appreciative to have a fan like you giving me regular updates =) Hopefully I'll see you around in the future!**

**Mr.E: Awe… I'm glad I've had such an impact! I know have really appreciate all your feedback and taking such an active interest in my work. I still can't get over how popular this ended up being considering in the past I just hung out in my little secluded corner of fanfiction just writing for the heck of it. Of course I shall still continue – I have too many ideas in my head not to – but I have to say having fans like you has really made the experience unforgettable =)**

**kamilialoveboysloveyaoi: Thank-you for reading! Hopefully you enjoyed the ending!**

** .790: Wow. Thank-you so much, that really means a lot to me – both as an author and as someone who has known what depression is capable of for much of my life. I understand what you mean, after all, I wrote thousands of words describing mental illness and I know that it's only the tip of the iceberg. It's such a confusing and convoluted experience, and I desperately wanted to try and convey to those that there are those out there who understand what they're going/have gone through. That and I wanted to try and shed some light to those who have never experienced it what it feels like. **

**I got to say, when I started this fic, it was born out of pure motivation to make 2k12 Raphril somehow plausible and believable. Then I started really digging into each character and found myself filled with such a much larger story. What originally was just a mere one-shot, "Struggle," turned into this and I am so glad that it happened because there definitely was a much deeper tale wanting to be told. I guess I could say it was a very cathartic experience writing it. **

**Anyways, sorry to have rambled – I always get so excited when I respond to you guys – but thank-you so much for reading and sticking with me to the end! Take care of yourself =)**

**Komnenid: Yeah… It'll be strange not having this thing endlessly tugging at my brain, but don't worry now that I have rediscovered my love of writing I will not abandon it! Also, I do have a draft for your gift fic, but I haven't had a chance to edit it… That and it kinda ended up being waaay longer than originally planned. As it like 7000 words later… *Head desk* So more Raphril is on the way, and will appear hopefully soon. Also, thank-you again so much for all your reviews and comments. I know I've said it before, but I really do appreciate it. Take care and I'll see you around =D**

**ThePastReliesOnMemories: I know what you mean… It's hard to not lose perspective sometimes. I'm glad you've enjoyed this fic so much! Thank-you so much for all your reviews and sticking with me until the end! Take care =)**


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